#were getting close to the in-game time frame now!

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[letsgetrowdy43]

Midnight magic—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 with Jack and "i couldn't kiss you all day! let me make up for it now." please <333

Warnings/notes: I'm back to slowly working through the remaining requests!! Also no warnings other than making out!

[Closed] End of summer celebration!!

Midnight at the lake house had become a sacred time between Jack and Luke's best friend. The latest hours of the night were dedicated to quiet confessions of feelings and lust fuelled secret kisses, a stark contrast to the days when they pretended to be nothing more than acquaintances.

Jack had never expected to fall for her. She was Luke's best friend from university, someone he’d known for a few years but never truly seen the way he did now.

At first, she was just the girl who tagged along with Luke, who cracked jokes, who beat him at cup pong a few times every summer.

But then something shifted.

The summer nights grew longer, the air warmer, and suddenly, Jack found himself stealing glances at her whenever she laughed, lingering in the kitchen just to talk to her a little longer. It was almost pathetic how he switched up, going from not caring to feeling the urge to know every little detail about her.

Now, these midnight rendezvous had become their little secret.

When the others were asleep or too deep into late-night card games to notice, they’d slip away. Out into the stillness of the night, the lake reflecting the soft glow of the moon, the world quiet save for the gentle rustle of trees in the summer breeze. It was as if they were out of sight and out of mind to the others, and they loved just how easily it was to sneak away to back in the glory of the other even if it was just for a few moments.

Tonight was no different, Jack had waited all day, watching her from across the table at breakfast, from the dock while they swam, and even at dinner when she sat beside Luke, laughing at his jokes. It had been torture not being able to touch her, not being able to kiss her. But the risk of anyone finding out, especially Luke, was too high. So, they kept their distance, only to find each other again under the cover of night hidden away from the rest of the sleeping housemates.

Jack leaned against the back of the house, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, waiting for her to join him outside, where they could talk as loudly as they felt and be as intimate as possible without fearing any unwanted eyes.

She appeared quietly, like always, slipping out the back door, the silhouette of her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. Her steps were light and careful as she walked towards him, and his heart began to race like it always did whenever she came near, her smile small as his hoodie hung loosely on her frame.

As she approached, she smiled—one that made his chest tighten in a way that only she could. Without a word, Jack pulled her into his arms, pressing her back against the wall of the house, their bodies close, but still careful. He studied her face, a slow grin spreading across his lips.

"I couldn’t kiss you all day," Jack whispered, his voice low, teasing. He gently brushed his thumb against her cheek, the touch sending shivers down her spine, "let me make up for it now." Her eyes flickered up to his, playful and full of the same longing that had been simmering all day, "you think that’s gonna cut it?" she teased back, her voice soft but daring, "you’ve got a lot to make up for, Hughes."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, as he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that had been waiting for hours to happen. It was slow at first, soft as if he was savouring the moment. But it quickly deepened, his hands tightening on her waist as she curled her fingers into the soft material of his hoodie, pulling him closer like she couldn’t get enough of him.

That is the thing about the little arrangement between them, it was everything. It was silent and hidden, but it held the weight of the world. All the secret touches, the unspoken glances, and everything that remained between them was like ignition that lit this intense sense of romance of fire.

Jack broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "Missed you all day." Her breath was ragged as she smiled into the next kiss, "you saw me all day," she said smugly, fully understanding the feeling of needing the other in ways that they couldn't be open about, but she also liked to hear him say it aloud. "Doesn’t count," he whispered back, gently pouting while shaking his head before pressing his forehead to hers, their breath, "not like this."

The world as Jack kissed her again, more slowly this time, savoring every second of it. Each kiss felt like it was full of the things they couldn’t say in front of everyone else, the feelings they had to hide.

His hands slid up her sides, brushing the hem of her sweater as he pulled her closer, kissing her as though he was making up for every hour they’d spent apart. She melted into him, her body pressing against his as hsi fingers found the freshly showered curls at the name of his neck, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

They pulled away after what felt like forever but was likely only a minute, their foreheads still pressed together, their breathing ragged before she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his jaw and then one to his cheekbone.

"We’re gonna get caught one of these days," she said in between kisses as his arms wrapped around her torso, a teasing lilt to her voice as he tried to bite back a grin. Jack smirked, brushing his lips against her once more before replying, "not tonight, but eventually, most definatley."

She laughed softly, her hands still holding him close as they stood there, the world quiet around them. "I think I'd be okay with that," she mumbled as she weighed out the theoretical pros and cons. "I'd most definitely be okay with it," he shrugged as she grinned at his nonchalantness, loving the idea of being openly able to show his growing feelings for her.

Midnight at the lake house had become their time, a place where they didn’t have to hide, where they could just be. But for how long, they didn’t know.

-

-

-

This was really quickly made so if it's bad don't tell me, I'll cry.

[chippedshake]

Ponyboy stands in front of the mirror, fifteen and one month old. His hair is longer than it used to be, and the still-blond tips brush his shoulders.

There are scissors in his hands.

"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that."

Ponyboy squeezes his eyes shut, hands gripping the sink for balance. The metal scissors clang against it.

"It used to look tuff. You and Soda had the coolest-lookin' hair in town."

He tries to imagine himself a year and a month ago. Squared off in the back, long at the front and sides. It looked real tuff.

He'd complained so much when he had to cut it off, making everything impossible for Johnny, and now he can't make himself bring it back to normal?

"Oh, come on, Ponyboy, it'll grow back."

It did. And now he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Oh shoot, it's just hair."

The front door slams open.

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"

"I never shoulda showed you that," Steve grumbles

"Well, ya did, and now ya gotta deal with it." Ponyboy can hear the grin in Soda's voice.

Loud footsteps go into the kitchen.

"Hey, ain't Pony s'pposed to be home already?"

"Prolly is, just up in his room with a book. Wouldn’t notice a twister a foot away if he was reading."

Steve snorts. "You up for a game of cards?"

"Sure. I gotta go change first though."

"Ya mean you gotta go stick an ace in your shoe?"

"Somethin' like that."

Soda's voice trails away as he makes his way to his room, but Steve's has grown closer and closer, and Ponyboy knows he's going to see him and ask questions that he doesn't want to answer, but he can't move from where his hands still grip the sink, scissors trapped against it.

"Hey, kid." Ponyboy looks up and meets Steve's eyes through the mirror. He's standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, whole body tense with discomfort, his face drawn with the same worry that strings through his voice. "You want me to get Soda?"

Ponyboy shakes his head and tries to subtly wipe his eyes. It'd be a new low to cry in front of Steve.

Steve's eyes flicker from Ponyboy's face to the scissors in his hand and his ungreased hair. He grimaces when he notices the tears, like he's not sure what to do with them.

"You know, cutting it off don't mean you'll forget them. You've still got a lotta memories that ain't in your hair. Better ones, too."

Steve's tone is matter-of-fact, but soft, softer than it's ever been. To Ponyboy, at least.

Like how Dally's voice reached a high, pleading tone it'd never reached before when they were speeding down that dirt road.

"I know..." Ponyboy whispers, and Steve leans in to hear him better. "It's just the last thing I got from them."

"That ain't true," Steve says. "You got both of their jackets and that book y'all read in the church. You even got the pictures you drew of them."

"Yeah, I know. It just ain't the same." His voice still won't come out above a whisper, but Steve seems to hear him just fine.

"Shoot, kid, I know that." He steps forward and sits down on the closed toilet seat. "But you can't live your life for them. They're gone. And they ain't comin' back. If you wanna remember 'em the right way, you gotta forget them sometimes."

Ponyboy thinks about the last year. About his bookmark that's been on page 118 for five months because Johnny would never get to read any pages after. About all the movie posters he's seen come and go because it wouldn’t be the same to watch them without Johnny. About the blade that's always in his back pocket that he can't stand to look at. About the time he brawled with Curly and then started crying because Dally had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch.

About how every time he looks in the goddamn mirror, he gets scared by his own reflection and remembers the church.

Maybe Steve's right. Maybe if he wants to start living normally again, he needs to forget them sometimes.

"This just ain't us. It's like being in a Hallowe'en costume we can't get out of."

Johnny might never get out of his costume, but Ponyboy could. And he would do it. For Johnny. Because he wouldn’t want Ponyboy to live as a shell of who he once was.

But when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, he knows he can't bring himself to do it.

"Steve, you ever cut hair before?"

He looks up in surprise, and for a moment Ponyboy's scared he's going to laugh at him. Then he stands up and holds his hand out for the scissors.

"Can't imagine it's harder'n fixin' up a car."

[haunted-xander]

It's been some time since Monaca started living with them and Nagito revealing his... new hand. A couple of weeks ago, Makoto and Kyoko had visited them to inform them about the Neo World Program being under testing. Apparently, the Neo World Program is supposed to undo Junko's brainwashing and completely rehabilitate the Remnants of Despair.

Chiaki is a bit wary, simulations like that tend to have something go wrong with them, but despite that, she is excited. If there's a chance to save her old classmates and friends, she will take it, no matter the risk.

Right now, though, she has a more pressing matter.

Getting Nagito's chain collar off. She noticed he's been trying to scratch his neck a lot lately, but couldn't because of the collar. Unfortunately, Monaca lost the key during Bing Bang Monokuma's attack and picking it proved difficult, even for Izuru.

Didn't help that Nagito resisted their attempts at getting it off. Guess that's Ultimate Despair for you... They take pleasure in things they hate. It must be so uncomfortable. He'll probably get markings on his neck from all that chafing...

Everyone's sitting on the couch playing together. Today, Chiaki had set up her Gamecube and had started up Legend of Zelda: Four Swords Adventures. A fun 4-player game they can all enjoy. Nagito was having a bit of trouble, on account of only having one functioning hand, but was doing well enough. His Ultimate Luck may be to thank for that, or maybe he's just that good.

Unfortunately, their play session was interrupted by a notification coming from Chiaki's phone. "...Oh, it's work. I need to send in some reports, so we'll need to pause the game for a bit." In reply, Monaca started whining, "But we just got to the booooooss! Monaca doesn't want to stop playing. Big sis should ignore any Future Foundation work and continue playing with Monaca and Big Bro! ...Oh, and Mr. Stalker, I guess."

"Sorry, but I can't do that. I've been putting these reports off for a while already, so I really need to deliver them. Munakata-kun's gonna be mad if I put it off anymore." Chiaki put her controller on the table and stood up. As Monaca tried to grab at her skirt, Nagito gently laid his hand on the little girl's shoulder. "Now, now Monaca-san, don't be so impatient. Let's play another game for a little bit while Nanami-san does her work, alright? She unfortunately can't abandon her duty forever."

"Hmmm... Okay! But Mr. Stalker isn't allowed to play with us." Monaca brightened up instantly and made to swap over to the Switch. Chiaki didn't get to hear what they ended up deciding on, but could tell Monaca was happy with whatever she started playing.

She walked into the isolated corner she's fashioned into a make-shift office, and sat down at her desk to get started on those reports. After a few minutes had passed, she heard a knock on the door and steady, even steps heading to check who it was. Faintly hearing the door opening, she deciding to let Izuru handle it and focused back on the reports in front of her.

At least she planned to. "Hey! Nanami-san, Nanami-san! I've got great news! ...Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you while working! I'll just, uh, get back to you later...?" Makoto shouted as he burst into her office, almost completely covering up the sound of Kyoko dicussing something with Izuru and Nagito. ...With the occasional snide comment from Monaca. "No, it's alright. What did you come here for? Did something happen?"

"Yes! Or, um, kinda...? Nothing really 'happened' per say but... Anyway, it's good! Really good!"

"...Well, what is it then?" Chiaki was honestly getting a bit impatient, eager to get back to writing the reports so she can finally be done with them. "Um, I told you we were working on a way to undo Enoshima-san's brainwashing, right?"

"Yeah, the Neo World Program, right?"

"Yeah! It's finally operational! We can get started on rehabilitation now! Kirigiri-san and I have already made plans with Togami-kun to have the islands and the pods readied for the 15 of them! We've got boats and everything ready to sail them all over too! I don't know how no one has caught wind of it yet if I'm being honest, but everything's going super well!" His excited rambling almost managed to lose her with everything he was saying, but she somehow managed to keep up. Somehow, I doubt it's just that they haven't been caught. Someone must have noticed it by now, it's far too big an operation for no one to notice. Which means someone is trying to help cover it up. ...Could it be...?

"...Hey hey, slow down a bit. Islands? boats? Where exactly are you taking them, Naegi-kun?" Chiaki had a few questions regarding the plan, but decided to point out what she deemed most pressing. "Oh, sorry! I totally forgot to mention that! The server for the Neo World Program is located in a small archipelago in the Pacific Ocean consisting of six islands called 'Jabberwock Island'. Apparently, the Future Foundation reconstructed an old administration building on the central island into a base so they could rebuild the island." Why do you say that like you're reading it off a tourist guide? "...I'm not sure why they didn't go throught with that plan, but now we can use it to help the Remnants recover!"

"I see. And I guess you're planning on the Remnants continuing to live on the island after rehabilitation too?"

"Um, well, that's the plan, yeah! They... can't exactly just wander around freely, even after being freed of the brainwashing. The Future Foundation -no, not just the Future Foundation, the whole world wouldn't like it if we just... let them go. As much as I hate it, they did kill a lot of people. Rehabilitation can't undo all their crimes."

"...Yeah, I get that. They'll serve their time living on the island. ...Much preferable to prison, I'd say. Maybe... after enough time, they can get the opportunity to visit the rest of the world. Maybe they can help restore the world in exchange for getting to leave the island occasionally."

"...I hope we can get to that point. I'm just worried about if the Future Foundation will ever come to accept that they're rehabilitated, even long after the fact. These guys are a real stubborn sort, you know?" Makoto let out a sheepish laugh, trying to cheer himself up. "...Hey hey, are you going to stay on the island too?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you'd need someone to watch over their recovery after the program... probably. Some of the Remnants don't seem to be doing so well, physically speaking. I ran into Owari-san during patrol some time ago and she... looked like she hadn't eaten a thing in weeks. And everyone has heard about the ones who traded their body parts for Enoshima-san's." Nagito's hand was a prime example of one such instance, but even that was far from the most disturbing one. ...Tsumiki-san will need to be kept a close eye on. Out of everyyone, her health will probably be the worst...

"Oh, yeah, you've got a point... I was considering it, but there's no way we'd get away with being gone so long. Of course, we'll take some time to watch over them after they first wake up from the program! But..."

Chiaki understood what he meant. As the leader of the 14th division, and the fact the Future Foundation already knows he has plans of some sort regarding the Remnants of Despair, there is no way he could just up an disappear. That said...

"Then, I'll do it."

[taevjim]

The Boy Next Door (m) jjk

pairing: gamer boy! jjk x female reader

genre: smut….just smut…

summary: The cute guy next door was really starting to work your nerves after only residing beside you for a couple weeks. You could hardly get much sleep, his hooting and hollering keeping you up at all hours of the night. You grow tired of his antics one late Friday night and decide to confront him for his selfish actions. Who knew gaming wasn’t the only way for Jungkook to keep you up at night…

You lay in bed for the fourth night in a row with a pillow wrapped around your head, hoping to block the sounds of yelling and obnoxious laughing from reaching your ear drums. For the last two weeks, night after night, your neighbor has done absolutely nothing but be the biggest nuisance a person could ever manage being in their life time.

At first you were excited to discover that you had a new neighbor, not very many people residing with you on your floor of the complex. You liked being alone- a true hermit at heart- but the extra company would never hurt anyone, right?

Wrong.

You learned the name of your pesky neighbor- Jungkook. All thanks to the girl he had hanging on his arm like an accessory only a few days prior, unable to stop his name from tumbling from her drunk lips. You took the liberty of going out for once, deciding to go out for drinks with a couple of girls from work.

Being that it was the first time you saw him that night, your eyes curiously landed on him the minute you came off the elevator.

His appearance was more than jaw dropping. He was lean, standing at probably 6’2, and also promisingly buff. His shoulders were broad and the outlines of his muscles through his shirt had you fixated on his figure.

It wasn’t until you noticed the very intoxicated girl hanging from his arm that made you roll you eyes. You try to ignore the giggles as you hurry to your door, hoping he gets inside his apartment before he sees you.

He’s fumbling for his keys from his pockets, almost as intoxicated as the girl he had with him. You can’t help but notice the way she’s all over him. Her hands are jammed up the front of his shirt, shamelessly coping a feel on the man out in the open. However, he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s looking down at her, a smirk on his pretty face.

His hair looked so plush and you couldn’t help but feel a vague pang of jealously at the sight of the girl running her fingers through the dark tresses. He had a piercing on his bottom lip, the way the light hit the metal capturing your attention towards his mouth.

And the bedroom eyes, Jesus.

His eyes bounced back and forth from the keyhole on the door to the girl at his side. He looked down at her in a way you don’t think you’ve ever been looked at in your life. The way his eyelids weighed down with want. His gaze strong and captivating. It was the playful wink he casts that has you in a chokehold.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you were ready to fall apart before the man.

You didn’t realize you’d been staring until his gaze floats over to you. You quickly avert your eyes and shove your key in the door so you could escape the awkward environment.

You don’t miss the sound of his teasing chuckle as you retreat into your apartment, the slam of his apartment door coming only moments after yours.

That’s the night you really started to despise him.

You’re revealed the true intentions behind his company as you lie awake, listening to the sounds of high pitched moans and the thumping from the bed frame hitting the wall. At this time, they had been going at it for going on an hour.

The clock reads 1:07 am and you let out a groan, flopping your head back on the pillow.

After about another thirty minutes of listening to constant moaning and banging against the wall, you hear faint voices out in the hallway. Then the sound of a door closing follows soon after and then silence…

Every night after that, it’s not just sex noises from next door that keep you awake. Now it’s the yelling and laughing that seems to not usually start until around 10pm at night.

You figure it to be video games causing the source of the ruckus, judging by the multiple comments you hear being yelled into the air. Comments like “Dude he’s right there!” “Behind you, behind you!” “Bullshit, I swear I shot him!” “There’s only one left!”

It was beginning to drive you crazy.

You’ve tried banging on the wall back at him, hoping to make it clear that he was being too loud and needed to shut the hell up. Unfortunately, it never worked. You imagine he wouldn’t be able to hear you, or maybe he just didn’t give a shit that he was disturbing you.

Now here you were, going on night four in a row of no sleep due to your next door neighbor.

It wasn’t a constant chain of outbursts. That’s what frustrated you the most. He would get real loud momentarily and then quiet back down just long enough for you to almost fall asleep. Just for him to cry out again and jostle you back awake. It was like a cycle. A never ending cycle that sometimes lasted until 4am.

You groan as you hear him cackle loudly, clearly having no kind of consideration for those who may be sleeping. Or in your case, trying to.

Huffing with anger, you jump up out of bed and bang a couple times on your wall very loudly. “Can you please keep it down?!” You yell through the wall and quickly press your ear against the surface, listening for a response.

Just like every other time, you don’t get one.

You just stand there for a few moments and listen. After a couple minutes of silence, you make your way back to your bed and attempt to get comfortable.

Like clockwork, as soon as you feel yourself start to slowly drift asleep…

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Your eyes slam back open, Jungkook’s loud mouth keeping you from sleep once again.

“I’ve fucking had it.” You grumble to yourself and quickly slip out of bed.

You grab your robe that was sitting on your chair and drape it around your body, angrily tying the string around your waist. You don’t even bother to put shoes on as you make a bee line to the front door.

Swinging it open, you stomp out into the hallway and furiously beat your fist against your neighbor’s door.

It takes a few moments of your fist pounding against the wood before the door swings open and you’re met with your infuriating specimen of a neighbor.

His headset is resting on top of his head, his right ear muff moved off of his ear so he could hear. His glasses sit at the bridge of his nose and his eyes stare back at you through the frames.

He doesn’t even seem interested in the reason behind you banging on his door like you’re a part of the SWAT team as his eyes take in your appearance.

Your robe was tied in a rush, leaving it opened in the front just enough for Jungkook to get an eye full of your cleavage. He also notices the fact that the material doesn’t even cover any further than your mid thigh. It’s evident that you didn’t put much thought into what you’re wearing when his gaze travels up to see the angry look in your eyes.

“Can you please, I will literally get on my knees and beg, please keep it down. You keep me up every night with your,” you frantically point at the device on his head, “gaming bullshit. Whatever it is you’re doing in here, I don’t care. Just please let me sleep.”

The entirety of your words don’t really reach him, you notice as a devilish smirk forms across his lips.

“Get on your knees and beg, you say?” You just scoff and roll your eyes at his immaturity.

“Of course that’s the only thing you heard me say.”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be too loud for you.”

It’s clear that he’s just teasing you. The urge you possess to just reach over and smack that shit eating grin off of his handsome face slowly starts to take over your body.

“A part of me thinks you just do it on purpose,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him.

He just laughs and then tugs his pretty pink bottom lip between his teeth.

You have to fight the groan that wants to come out of your throat so badly. He was so hot, too hot for his own good. You couldn’t imagine the amount of women this man probably had under his foot at every beck and call. How can someone still manage to be so charming while being a complete ass?

The air suddenly feels colder and you self consciously push your arms in on yourself, wrapping them around your body at the waist.

His eyes flicker down at the movement and his focus pivots to one of your nipples that suddenly grow hard, pebbling just beneath the fabric of your robe. Suddenly, he gives you a sweet smile and widens his door for you a little.

“You cold, pretty? I can help warm you up.”

The look in his eyes is dangerous, a stark contrast to the cute smile he wears on his face.

That’s when you realize how little clothing you actually were wearing, now feeling exposed to his hungry eyes. Alas, his offer still interests you.

You just scoff and slightly peak around his shoulder inside of his apartment. “Warm me up how?” You question.

“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you?” He asks, stepping aside to allow you room to enter. You look up at him with curious eyes and you don’t notice the minuscule bob of his adams apple as he gulps.

Sure he was a tease. His ability to get women left and right whenever he wanted had many men wishing they were him. However, that still didn’t mean he didn’t get nervous around a pretty girl. A pretty girl such as yourself was lethal to men like Jungkook.

Girls like you were usually more challenging to acquire. They typically played more hard to get. So naturally, he wasn’t really taking his teasing comments toward you seriously.

He was really just expecting you to brush off his suggestive comments and stomp off back to your apartment, as girls like you would usually do. It was a cat and mouse sort of thing for them. They liked to dangle themselves in front of hot blooded men, looking all pretty and ready to be snatched up- just to run away at the last second and run them around like a dog.

Jungkook had been with a hefty number of women, so he liked to think he knew his way around them and their antics pretty well.

What he didn’t expect, though, was for you to take him up on his offer and enter into his apartment.

"How cute," you tease, picking up one of his halo action figures he had sitting on the counter.

He closes the door, his cheeks heating up slightly as he feels embarrassment.

"Don't do that." He takes the object from you, not missing the way you giggle cutely.

He shoves it in a drawer and points a finger at you in warning. "It is a very manly hobby, don't you dare say anything."

"Right...." You're feeling bold as you start to inch closer to him. His nerdiness intrigued you. You actually did think it was cute. Even cuter when it's a super attractive dream boat of a man who's into such hobbies.

Once you stop in front of him, you look up. His eyes twinkle with eagerness and it makes you smirk.

"You said something about warming me up earlier, if you remember." He lets out a groan at the sight of you looking up at him that way. He hated to admit that he has met his match, having not met such a woman who was eager to play his own game against him.

You reach towards him and grab at one of his hands, bringing it to the tie of your robe that held the fabric together. He loops a finger around the material and with a quick tug, he pulls your body closer to him. He's looking down at you over the slope of his nose, your intense gaze matching his own.

"I did say that." His voice comes out low, husky, so melodic to your ears.

The feeling of your chest against his has Jungkook taking a deep breath, trying his hardest not to break your eye contact.

With a flick of his wrist, he's managed to pull the knot loose to your robe. The two pieces of fabric fall open and reveal a sliver of your naked torso to the man.

He's quickly flicking the headset off of him and tossing it on the couch before he surges forward and scoops you up. The smallest yelp escapes you at the sudden action and you just wrap your legs around his waist on instinct. His hands immediately find their way underneath the curve of your ass cheeks and he grips the fat between his fingers.

"You feel so soft," he whispers into your neck, finding his way to his bedroom with no problem.

Once he gets to the foot of his bed, he carefully drops you in the center; watching the way your body slightly bounces on impact. Your robe has completely fallen open and your tits were fully out, so vulnerable to his eyes.

He doesn't bother to move for a few moments. Instead, he just sits down in his chair and leans back to admire your figure lying sprawled out on his sheets. His eyes dance around the expansion of your skin, down the curve of your hips, to the prettiest set of thighs he's ever seen.

From the position where he's sitting, he can see the faint dark spot in your panties. His pants were tight from the moment he opened his front door to you, but seeing that has them growing impossibly tighter. Which was hard, considering the fact he was wearing sweatpants.

"Are you wet?" His question has you suppressing a giggle. He clearly already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You sit up on your elbows and nod your head at him before you ask in the sweetest voice, "Wanna see?"

He sits up in his chair, leaning closer to your direction. You take his movement as an answer to your question and reach down to slide your panties down your legs.

You don't bother to rid yourself of them completely, allowing the fabric to lazily dangle from your ankle. You sit up on your elbows once again and let your legs fall open, revealing your most intimate parts to your hot neighbor.

He can feel his mouth start to salivate at the sight of your pussy displayed to his greedy eyes. The wetness you've produced has Jungkook's gaze slightly widening.

"You were this wet the whole time?" he asks, almost in disbelief.

You feel his fingers on you suddenly, causing you to gasp. He wastes no time in burying his middle finger in your pussy up to the knuckle. Your back is arching and a soft moan rolls off of your tongue.

Jungkook decides to get closer to you, his knees now pressing into the bed as he crawls over your body. He slides another finger inside of you and lowers his face right above yours. “What a dirty girl you are,” he whispers into your neck, his breath crawling across your skin so faint.

You’re whimpering at his words but mainly from the feeling of his fingers still moving inside of you. This wasn’t exactly what you pictured happening when you decided to come confront him for his loudness. You couldn’t really say you were complaining, though.

His face was just so pretty. The way his glasses sat low on his nose, his gaze intense as he sets his eyes on you. He made you squirm beneath him.

The trust of his fingers driving into your core doesn’t stop and it has your head stretched back to rest against the pillows. Your back arches and Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide his other hand underneath you and across your back, holding you closer to his body.

Well, you suppose this was one way to make sure you were getting no sleep tonight. At least this way was a lot more worth it.

“Talk to me, baby.”

The sound of his voice pulls you out of your thoughts and your eyes land back on his. “There she is,” he teases, a smirk now resting on his ridiculously soft lips.

He increases the movement in his wrist, only driving his fingers deeper inside of you and the feeling has your eyes rolling back.

Your climax was climbing rapidly, the way your muscles twitch around Jungkook’s fingers making him fully aware.

“You gonna come, baby?” You frantically nod your head at his words, a few whines slipping past your lips. Before you’re granted your orgasm, Jungkook is pulling his fingers from you.

The second a whine attempts to bubble from your mouth, Jungkook leans over and plants his lips on yours. They’re just as soft as you imagined them to be and the taste he provides has you pushing your mouth deeper against his, kissing him back in desperation.

He shoves his head in the bend of your neck and reaches a hand down to spread your thigh wider; his other hand was busy with pulling the front of his sweatpants down. He chuckles at the sight of your cotton thong, that famous smirk plastered across his pretty face again.

“It’s almost like you knew you would be getting fucked, huh?” His tone is accusing, his face floating around in front of yours.

You just shrug teasingly, gently pulling your lip between your teeth. "As long as it's you, I won't complain.”

The feeling of Jungkook’s cock suddenly sliding in you has you gasping for breath. You try to keep yourself propped up on your elbows, the sight of his thick fingers holding the fabric of your panties to the side as he drills himself deeper in your body soon becoming too much.

His eyebrows are pinched together, his eyes completely focused on the vision of his dick disappearing inside of you. Your plump body was so warm and soft; he loved the way you felt under his fingertips.

Your mouth is slightly hung open, whimpers and moans escaping your throat like butter.

He admired the reaction he gained from your body, from the faces you made to the way your body twisted and turned in his grasp.

"Please, come closer to me." You're whining and reaching out to grab onto his meaty shoulders, pulling him closer against your body. He chuckles at your desperation; he found it quite cute.

"I'm right here, pretty." He whispers into your ear and increases the speed of his thrusts into your body. Your senses were on overload, he was driving you crazy; his scent, his touch, the smug look on his sexy face. You were a wrecked, soppy, dirty mess.

He leans back to sit on his knees and pulls you with him. He sits you in his lap, both hands on the fat of your hips, fucking into you like his life depends on it.

The force he used while thrusting into you had you gripping the man's shoulders, your loud moans in his ear only egging on his actions. His fingers made indents into your soft body; his grip so tight on you, you were scared of breaking. You would love to be broken by Jungkook, though. You would beg.

"Fuck, Jungkooo-" He performs a particularly hard thrust, momentarily cutting off your words and knocking the breath from you.

"What is it, baby?" He asks softly in your ear, his grip on you remaining as tight as a vice.

"You feel sooo, mmmmm so good." Your words come out in a mess due to your inability to really focus on putting them together in a sentence. He smirks as he watches you struggle.

You look down at him, watching the way his hair dangles in front of his eyes, his lip caught between his pink lips. His eyes were dangerous, looking at you with such hunger and intensity. The visual of him was enough to have you crying out, his name sticking to your lips.

"You're gonna make me come," You whisper into his neck, a whimper following close behind.

He reaches out to you and grips you by the throat, pulling you away from his body.

"Stop hiding from me," he grunts, his pace increasing to a brutal pace, "I wanna see your pretty face when you come on my cock."

His dirty words have you shaking like a leaf, your orgasm finally washing over you.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight." He groans and tightens his fingers around your throat, the pace of his thrusting not letting up.

Jesus, he's got some stamina.

He's wearing a cocky smile on his face as he watched the way your mouth hangs open, those cute little whimpers escaping your body.

The next expression to take over his beautiful features is one of bliss. His eyebrows push together and his mouth opens slightly, his eyes drifting down to the way his cock slides inside of you. "It looks so fucking good," he whines and pulls you closer to him by the back of your neck.

He pushes his forehead against yours and holds you there as you listen to the pretty moans release from the man. You bite your lip to contain your own sounds just so you could keep listening to him.

Followed by his moans is a warm feeling that suddenly washes over your lower half.

"I'm coming, baby." He's now holding your jaw with both hands, his thrusts growing harder so he can ride out his release. "Such a pretty little pussy to take my big load, hm?"

His words manage to have you moaning again, mixed between the feeling of his increase of speed; the feeling of his hips violently knocking into yours. You're coming...again.

The sounds roll off your tongue and Jungkook leans in to peck your lips. "What a good girl," he whispers, "coming for me twice. You're so good."

Once you've both come down from your sex high, Jungkook climbs off of you.

You hear the shower turn on once he enters the bathroom, only emerging immediately after. His eyes land on you and he grins. "Come shower with meee."

The whine in his voice has you giggling, until he leans down to place a warm kiss on your neck. You let out a small gasp and Jungkook just takes the initiative to bend down and scoop you up.

A few moments later, Jungkook has you giggling as he childishly rubs soap all over your breasts. He seems to be having the time of his life too.

"Are you happy now?" You just stand there, allowing him to finger paint on your body with the foamy soap.

He chuckles at your question and nods. Then he's reaching out and grasping a nipple between his fingers, walking closer to you. "Who knew this would be what I get for being such a disturbing neighbor."

You squint your eyes at him for his teasing and swat his hands away from you. You just roll your eyes and step around him to get to the shower door. "It's not my fault your charms and incredibly good looks took advantage of me."

You're reaching for the shower door and you're immediately interrupted with Jungkook's strong arms wrapping around you. "Come on, pretty, don't be that way."

You sink into his embrace, his close proximity already getting you cockdrunk again.

"I promise to never keep you up past your bedtime again," he pulls you into his chest and leans down to place a kiss below your ear, "unless I have the opportunity to fuck that pretty pussy again."

His vulgar vocabulary had your cheeks heating up and you playfully swat him away again and quickly exit the shower, not missing the teasing chuckle he lets out over your shy reaction.

That night, you stayed at Jungkook's.

And the night after that.

And the night after that.

He just loved to keep you awake.

quickest piece i've ever produced. enjoy, cuties <3

[eiightysixbaby]

two-player

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

turns out it’s a great idea to screw around with your coworker (2.9k)

cw: 18+ only SMUT. mean!eddie, bratty reader (really they’re just stubborn idiots pining for each other), degradation on the low (eddie calls r some names), use of petnames, spanking, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, lmk if I forgot any!

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you hiss, your chest colliding with metal.

You can hear the metallic jangle of Eddie’s belt buckle coming undone, his free hand pressing hard into your back, keeping you bent over the hood of his van.

He’d been driving you up the wall the entire day, your shift at the arcade seeming to never end. You were at each other’s throats the entire time, spitting insults back and forth like children until Keith had told you to shut the fuck up and go home - he'd close up shop himself - and not bother coming back until you could figure your shit out.

You were seething, tension at an all time high between the two of you when you stomped after him out to the dark, empty parking lot. You aren’t quite sure how you got here, you just know it involved Eddie pressing you up against the back wall of the building, his tongue tangling with yours.

A dry chuckle erupts from deep in Eddie’s throat. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m not that fond of you, either.”

You gasp when his hands tug your shorts down, your panties coming with them in one swift, harsh motion. His ring-clad hand comes down to smack your ass, kicking your feet apart with a heavy boot.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it. His hands grope each cheek, spreading them to expose your tight little hole, the slick folds of your drenched pussy.

“Are you gonna keep ogling or actually do something, Munson?” you snark, letting out a startled squawk when he slaps your ass again.

“I’m gonna start by fucking that stupid little attitude right out of you,” he grits, gathering each of your hands and bringing your wrists together behind your back, holding them firmly. “Sound like a plan, sugar?” he asks, bending over your frame so that his mouth is inches from your ear.

You’re about to bite back when he swipes the middle and ring fingers of his free hand through your folds, rubbing back and forth through them.

“It’s real fucking cute,” he says, venomous, “that you wanna talk suuuch a big game, but here you are; getting soaked when I’ve barely even touched you.”

You shiver despite the heat of the night, craning your neck to try and get a better look at him. You try to shoot him daggers, but you’re aware you probably just look pathetic. It doesn't help that the fluorescent glow of the Palace Arcade sign was casting him in the prettiest oranges and blues, making him look ethereal.

He’s right, too. All the teasing, the arguing, the insults have done nothing but get you hot for him. You wanted to see how far you could push him, wanted to see if he’d cross into uncharted territory.

And cross he did.

He teases your entrance, swirling the pad of his finger around the slick hole, your back arching.

“Ed-dieee,” you whine, face going impossibly hot when you hear him laugh at you.

“What?” he asks, feigning nonchalance. “What do you want?”

You burn, jaw setting as he continues to tease you. “You know what,” you reply meekly.

“Do I? Hmm, I’m not sure. Nothing seems to be coming to mind…”

“Please,” you try, not wanting to have to say the words.

“Oh, so now you can be polite? That’s sweet, but I still wanna hear you say it,” he purrs. “Tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenches, wanting to tell him off but thinking better of it. He won’t give you anything if you push him too hard. It’s harder than it should be to get the words out of your mouth, feeling petulant in your reluctance to tell him what you need.

“I want…” you say, exhaling sharply. “I want your fingers inside of me.”

“Oh, is that it?” he replies, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s got a shit-eating grin plastered on that stupid face of his.

You nod, cheeks inflamed with humiliation. Nevertheless, your core throbs for him, a deep ache that needs to be satiated.

“Eddie…” you whine, so softly, as if you don’t want him to hear it.

But he does. “So needy,” he taunts, fingers continuing to tease your entrance. He draws circles around it, three times before finally giving in.

Two fingers intrude, pushing in to the knuckle. You inhale sharply, jaw hanging slack when his fingers start to curl. The sick squelching sounds he draws from your cunt are enough to make him swear under his breath, a muttered, “Fuck, so wet.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. His fingers fuck you with a precision you haven’t known before. You’d secretly assumed that he’d be good, but this is mind-blowing.

If his fingers feel this good, you have to know how his cock feels.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you’re cumming around his thick digits, cream pooling around his rings.

“That’s it, baby, fuck. Such a god damn whore, cumming so quick,” he bites, but you can hear the condescension wavering in his tone.

You don’t say a word, your brain fuzzy, like the static on a television. Behind you, Eddie’s pulling his cock free from his boxers, and you can hear the rustle of movement when he shoves the clothing down his thighs.

One big hand reaches around to your face, palm open and waiting.

“Spit,” Eddie rasps, and your breath catches in your throat. It takes you a moment too long to compute for his liking. “Did I fucking stutter? Spit.”

You oblige, spitting in his hand, coating it with your saliva. You turn as best you can to watch him stroke his cock with his now slick palm, and a mewl escapes you at the sight of him. His cock is thick and glorious, the tip pink and leaking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting Eddie’s dark eyes.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he asks, smug.

You almost retort with something snarky, but there’s a part of Eddie’s expression that says he really wants your approval. There’s a part of you that simply wants to give him whatever he wants.

“Mhm,” you nod. “It’s so big, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

He steps closer, pressing the head of his cock against your core. You whine, feeling yourself clench around nothing in desperate anticipation to take him. You bite down on your lip when he presses in, teeth sunk hard into the soft skin, fighting back the moan that threatens to break loose. It shouldn't feel this good, he's barely started fucking you, yet your entire body feels like a live wire.

Your hands clench into fists where he holds them behind your back, nails digging into the heels of your palms as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. A sharp whine is punched from your throat against your will, his cock splitting you open wide. His left hand digs into the curve of your hip, bracing himself as he starts to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Eddie, c'mon,” you say, desperate for him to fuck you fast, hard.

“Hm?” he hums, snapping his hips against your ass in a punctuated thrust.

You curse, letting the side of your face rest on the hood of his van. There's a tantalizing, slow drag of his cock pulling back out, making your body feel like it's on fire. You can feel how wet you are, the slick warmth beginning to drip down your inner thighs. The slight humiliation of the way Eddie has you exposed and vulnerable, the way he has you in the palm of his hand, makes your head spin and your skin burn.

Unable to take his devious pace, you huff in frustration. “Please, Eddie. Stop going so slow.”

His fingers squeeze, mean, into the meat of the junction where your hip meets your ass. “You're just never satisfied, are you?”

“I'm not fucking playing, Eddie. Come on. Are you gonna fuck me good or what?”

His nostrils flare, though you don’t see it. If you want to play this game, fine.

“You’re gonna regret that attitude when you can’t even walk during your shift tomorrow,” he snarls, bending his body over yours so that he’s speaking into your ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”

And you hate it — god, you hate it. The way his words go straight to your cunt, the way your walls squeeze his cock in desperation.

You whine in spite of yourself, cheeks going hot when you hear a triumphant puff of air leave Eddie’s nose.

He lets go of your wrists, a dull ache lingering where his fingers had wrapped around them. Both hands free, he grips each of your hips, holding you steady. He pulls his thick cock almost completely out of your needy pussy, before ramming entirely back in. A sharp moan is forced from your lungs, your hands trying and failing to find good purchase against the smooth surface of his van’s hood. Eddie gives you no time to adjust to his new tempo, falling into a quick pace seamlessly. Hands splayed flat on the metal, you prop yourself up on wobbly arms, your limbs feeling like goo.

Eddie’s a pro, his hips bucking against your ass with each deep stroke, the head of his cock pressing firmly into your sweet spot each time. This definitely isn’t his first time, and as good as it feels, it makes you a little bit jealous to think of some other girl in your position. You want him wrapped around your finger, begging on his knees for you and only you.

“Damn, sweetheart, this pussy was fucking made for me,” Eddie purrs. “Think she's been craving my cock for a while,” he says, squeezing your hips harder, the chunky rings on his fingers pressing almost painfully into the soft skin.

You let out a strangled whine, your legs feeling like they're on fire as he fucks you into oblivion. It's taking everything you have to stay standing, and his vulgar words only make your knees more weak.

“Come on, baby, tell me,” he goes on, his voice dropping an octave, husky and raw. “Tell me how long you've been waiting for this.”

Your teeth tug at your lip, embarrassed to reply. He's got you cornered, completely figured out, but admitting your secret desires for him is giving in to his ego.

He pulls his cock all the way out, the weeping tip nudging at your entrance. You whimper pitifully at the absence of him, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Ah-ah,” he leans in close again, the heat of his body over yours making you feel like molten lava. “You don't get what you want if you don't behave,” he speaks slowly, his hot breath on your ear. He rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, taunting you. “Tell me how long you've wanted me. How many nights you've spent with your fingers inside that poor, tight little cunt, wishing they were mine instead.”

You quiver at his command, your pussy throbbing for him as he continues to tease. You'd wanted him for far too long; moaned his name into the empty stillness of your bedroom on late lonely nights; fantasized about the softness of his mouth and the roughness of his hands; stared at him any chance you got at work when he wasn't looking. Or at least, you thought he wasn't looking.

You inhale shakily, Eddie's breathing audible behind you.

“I-I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Since I started working here, since before then-” you whine, your voice high-pitched and pleading, begging him to give you what you want now that you've relented.

“Do you think of me?” he coos. “When you touch this pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Eddie. It's always you, always you,” you confess, gasping when he presses the head of his cock inside your aching walls.

“That’s right, baby. No one else could make you feel this good.” He slowly fills you, the sticky glide of his cock as it nestles deep making your brows furrow and your eyes shut tight.

He stills once he’s fully inside again, your breathing shallow as you anticipate his movement. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, surprising you, but in an instant he’s drawn back, standing upright where you can’t reach those plump lips you so badly long to kiss. Without warning he falls into a quick pace, fucking you harder than before, better than before, if at all possible.

“God. Y'know, sweetheart,” he says, breaking the white noise of the night around you. “It drove me fucking crazy how I could never get you out of my head. No matter what I did, couldn't stop thinking about you,” he continues, grunting with the effort of his thrusts. “You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thought of you,” he says, teeth gritted as he presses against your sweet spot. “Sometimes I'd even come out here and do it on my breaks, just couldn't fucking handle being around you. I've been dying to have you, for so long.”

Your jaw goes slack at his words, a silent moan frozen as you process it. All along it hasn’t just been you with a secret fantasy, no; he’s been right there with you the whole time. In another moment, a different scenario, you'd play back every too-long glance or lingering touch he'd given you in a different context, but right now he's making your head too fuzzy to think that hard.

“Eddie-” you pant, unable to continue. Words swirl in your brain but fail to form a coherent sentence, and you can only hope he's possessed a sudden ability to read your mind. That he can detect how much his words are affecting you.

You're soaking his cock, making each thrust slippery and smooth. You can hear the sick sounds of his balls slapping against your skin, your cunt squelching each time his cock fucks entirely into you.

“I'm, I'm gonna-” you stammer, voice shaky as you teeter on the edge.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've been waiting so long for it,” he commands, his voice a low rumble.

His movements don't falter, fucking you even as your legs shake and your walls clench hard around him, over and over. Your cries are incessant, moans and curses of his name into the black hole of twilight that surrounds you. His movements grow sloppier, his previous precision dwindling. Your body grows overstimulated quickly, each drag of his cock setting your insides ablaze.

“Shit, where do you want me to cum?” he asks, sounding nothing like he did before. An almost nervous edge to his tone, his cocky facade crumbling.

“Inside, Eddie, inside,” you rush out, your mouth parting in a gasp when he instantly spills inside of you; not a moment of hesitation.

His cock twitches, a quiet, drawn-out groan leaving his lips. His thrusts slow to an exhausted halt, his breathing ragged with effort.

Your surroundings seem to blur at the edges as you come back to some semblance of reality. He pulls out slowly, your cunt tightening once as if in attempt to keep him inside forever. You don't speak, too afraid that if you do, the whole moment will shatter. That everything he had said would turn out to be a lie, that this was all some joke, something he could hold over your head for the rest of forever.

You stand up straight, your back still towards him, bending to pull your pants back up. You hear him do the same, heavy breaths puffing out of his nose.

“You okay?” he asks finally, waiting for you to look at him, to speak, anything.

You take a shaky breath, relaxing yourself. “That depends,” you reply, turning to face him. You try your best to sound collected, unsure of how well you're really doing after the way he just ruined you.

“On?” He quirks a brow.

“Whether or not you were telling the truth. When- when you said you've been wanting me all this time.” Your voice comes out far breathier than you'd wanted, but you hold your ground, your face emotionless as you await his response.

Eddie's brows shoot up momentarily before softening, an expression you don't see on him often.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, a hand reaching out to grab your waist, pulling you up against him, chest to chest. Your heart pounds and you wonder if he can feel it. “You have me in the palm of your hand,” he murmurs, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I was just too much of a bitch to admit it.”

Goosebumps raise on your skin, your lips parting in a pleasant surprise at his statement. He draws back, deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“Well,” you say, still shaky. “I'm glad we got this sorted out, then.”

Eddie laughs, big and boisterous, so unlike that mean one he'd used before. It makes your heart swell, you want to reach out and grab his face, kiss him till he's breathless and reeling.

“Guess we could both stand to stop being so stubborn, huh?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a cheeky grin.

“Me? Stubborn? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Munson.”

His eyes narrow, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “I could go for round two right now, baby. Don’t test me.”

You crack, breaking into a laugh. “I’d actually really like to be able to walk during my shift tomorrow, and my chances of that are already slim, so can I take a rain check?”

He snorts, a playful roll of his eyes accompanying it. “Sure. A rain check. Just let me know when and where.”

“Preferably not in this parking lot.”

“Noted.”

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[preqwells]

cw: implied smut, fluff

roommate simon who had just saved your sorry ass yet again from another failed date. he didn't know where you found these men, honestly. "your poor taste get to you again? or just desperation?" he'd ask mockingly which made you want to choke him then and there. you'd only grunt in frustration which proved him right-- probably both. he'd tease you more if it wasn't for what you had worn tonight-- it wasn't like it was a problem, it was just… distracting. you were distracting. he didn't like the way your perfume made him feel heady and borderline dizzy as he drove you two home-- couldn't stand it, honestly.

he didn't appreciate the way you'd dance around the subject of you two, either. why were you going out with these men when he was right there? were you scared because you two were roommates and friends? were you scared of messing up what you guys had? he didn't know and at this point didn't care to probe-- your lack of interest was all-telling.

at least, that's how it was in his perspective… he didn't notice how your gaze consistently lingered on him-- the way his frame hulked over yours when helping you get something off the top of the fridge, the way you'd greet him 'good morning' as he grunted back as your eyes followed him, trudging into the kitchen. he didn't even notice now how you eyed him in the passenger seat with his cologne encompassing you, almost enticing you.

but he did notice how you got out of the car as you two reached your shared apartment, there was a lingering sense of tension-- an unspoken question of why you two had let this cat-and-mouse game go on for so long. "i'm deleting these stupid fucking dating apps-- all i meet are weirdos." you declared with a huff, prompting simon to raise his brow as he finished parking his car, closing the door effortlessly as he locked it. "and whose fault is that?" he asked as a matter-of-fact as you two approached your door, your eyes narrowing as you drew yourself closer to him.

"yours."

"mine?"

"did i stutter?"

"don't gotta stutter to be wrong, love."

"fuck you."

he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he opened the door for you. he didn't take you seriously-- he had no reason to. you were like this all the time. "whatever you say." he mumbled, his voice a deep rumble as your eyes raised to meet his. little did he know you were serious.

you had proposed to watch a movie together on the couch as a way to end the night-- you were hoping maybe everything didn't need to end on a bad note, even if your date had gone to shit. he decided to indulge you, maybe against his better judgment. you got all but maybe an hour into the movie before you two started sharing glances. one, here and there-- two, just because you had finished off the last of the popcorn and it irked him-- three, because of the way your laughter at a scene in the movie had coaxed a small smirk from his lips-- four, just because of the way the flickers of light from the television were illuminating your features as you snuggled closer to him. "maybe… i should go to bed." you whispered to him, looking up at him with a slightly hazed look from your exhaustion. the warmth of your breath brushed against his cheek, the proximity intoxicating as your eyes flickered between dark molasses eyes and plush pink lips. "really?" simon asked softly, as if testing your resolve.

"really."

"tired?"

"…something like that."

simon went quiet as he caught onto the growing tension, his hand snaking around your waist to readjust your position on his lap as you helped, looking up at you as you lazily straddled him. "something like that?" he mumbled, his thumb trailing down to run along the fat of your hip. you leaned in, your lips ghosting above his as he reciprocated the change in your position, tilting his head to meet your lips in a slow kiss. your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you closer to him, your lips slightly parting to let out a small noise of surprise when he suddenly squeezed your thigh, simon failing to resist the urge to see what makes you tick. you felt his tongue probe at your lower lip, teasing you. "so-- you're gonna uninstall those apps?" he asked breathlessly in between kisses.

"we're… in the middle of making out."

"so?"

"so?"

you let out a small yelp when his hand traveled to your ass to give it a small pinch, prompting you to jump. "ouch--! yes, yes! i am! god!" you groaned out in faux pain before you caught a glimmer in his eye, a satisfied hum escaping him as he began planting kisses along the side of your jaw and down the side of your neck as he lightly nipped at your skin.

"mm, good."

[leilanihours]

# LIKE CLOCKWORK

pairing: paige bueckers x teammate!reader

word count: 1532

warnings: arguing, offensive cursing?

summary: in a heated game, your girlfriend doesn't hesitate to step up and defend you.

⭑ from lani: i rlly hate this and its like corny imo but idk..oh also i have nothing against usc or any of their players i just needed someone to cause drama sorry guys!

masterlist !

THE WHOLE GAME was a mess, in all honesty. the aggression. the determination. the ref’s bullshit calls. there were too many factors that contributed to the general tensity of the game.

in the midst of the march madness tournament, uconn ended up going against usc, a school that was set up to have a “rivalry” with the huskies due to the similarity between their star freshman, juju watkins, and your own all-american girlfriend, paige bueckers.

however, the crowd was focused on a different pair tonight: you and kayla williams. you had heard of the girl prior to the game and acknowledged that she was a good player on both ends of the court, so you prepared yourself for her efforts.

before tonight, you had absolutely nothing against her. you respected her and her dedication to the sport, even complimenting her once in an interview. but for some reason, the trojan had been all up in your personal space the entire game. some may call it good defense but she was simply doing way too much in your eyes.

there had been multiple accounts where she illegally restricted your movement as you went to make a shot, yet the refs let it be. the entire ordeal pissed you and your own teammates off, but specifically your girlfriend.

you could tell paige was getting annoyed at the way kayla was acting, even when the ball wasn’t in play. her eyes were trained on the opponent every now and then to make sure that she wouldn’t try anything. but she practically death stared her.

it’s not that you couldn’t handle yourself, because everyone knew damn well that you could, it was the fact that the intensity of kayla’s physical pressure over you was honestly concerning. still, you continued to focus on the game.

it was currently two minutes left in the fourth quarter and uconn held the lead 82-76. with a six-point deficit and a freshman sharp shooter for usc, the score was too close for your team's comfort.

your coach had advised the team to stay off of social media to avoid letting their opinions get to your heads, but you still knew what was happening. people were calling you out for being too emotional on court after an incident with a player on duke in the previous round.

———

it was almost the end of the third quarter and uconn was up by…a lot. the duke players were not happy at all.

you were running across the floor, crossing between the two duke players guarding you. for some reason they were set on the fact that you were their biggest threat, so as they double-teamed you, you had to push harder against their defense.

your teammate kk arnold passes you the ball over the pile of bodies trying to guard you as you catch it with your hands extended in the air. quickly, you adjust your stance as you shield the ball away from duke’s grasps.

you dribble the ball forward before stepping back out behind the three-point line and faking a pass to paige to get the guards off of you. with the small time frame and physical space you had, you quickly jump and shoot the ball into the net, resulting in a beautiful swish as another three points are added to the board.

you also draw a foul since one of the duke girls grabbed at your leg mid-jump shot. you throw up three fingers in the air and smile as your teammates pat your back and dap you up. 

before you were set to get three free throws, you huddled up with the rest of the girls to discuss your next plays. you were focused on what paige was explaining, but you couldn’t help overhearing the loud discussion in the huddle next to you.

“god, she’s not even that good. the only reason she’s here is because her dad is on the coaching staff.”

“exactly, she’s just a bitch with connections, all her shots are sloppy.”

you lift your head from your own huddle to make sure you’re hearing them correctly. “hey, what was that? what’d you say?” you ask them.

“nothin’ bitch, just mind your business,” one of the girls says with a pointed glare.

“sorry?” you’re now fully turned around to face her, but you try to maintain your composure so as to not get a tech.

“woah hey chill,” paige says as she swiftly places her hands on your waist to pull you away from the scene, “you gotta ignore them, y/n, we can’t have you getting a tech. don’t let them get to you.”

her eyes are locked on yours as her large hands are still grasping your jersey loosely. you nod wordlessly with your jaw clenched.

“like clockwork?” she asks you, fist extended. 

you smirk at her proposal and bump your hand against hers, “like clockwork.”

it was a phrase you two often used on the court, just the two of you. whenever either of you said it, it was an unspoken promise to have each other’s backs and power through the game no matter what.

it was a signal to show your opponents your unbeatable connection that left everyone speechless and scrambling for their words. so, like clockwork, you two were beasts on the court after initiating the promise.

you were angry to say the least. you were tired of the treatment not only from other players, but also from the media. everyone had instructed you to block it all out and take your emotions out on the ball and net. so that’s what you did. 

——— 

and that’s what you continued to do. you drove your shots, defended well, and refused to back down. you were pumped up by the adrenaline running through your veins, but after you managed to drain another three-pointer, one split-second interaction sent a different emotion to course through you.

“try-hard bitch,” you hear as you are shoved forward. turning around, you are faced with, of course, kayla williams.

before you could respond, you see paige stepping in front of you protectively and getting up in her face. you see her place a strong forearm against kayla’s chest to push her off of you.

“yo, you need to back the fuck off,” she demands as she lessens the space between her and the trojan to intimidate her. paige had about five inches of height on the girl, so she was glaring down at her with looks that could kill.

she was tired of all the bullshit you were getting, tired of them pushing you around. so, naturally, she had to do something about it.

but unfortunately, the refs caught the heated interaction, immediately blowing their whistles to give both paige and kayla technical fouls for unsportsman-like conduct.

paige freezes the second she hears the refs’ call before walking away from you and kayla frustratedly. you stalk after her, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed at her sudden outburst.

“paige, what the hell was that? what happened to not letting them get to us?” you ask as she plops down into a chair on the sidelines, head in her hands. she shakes her head, not responding to you, “paige??”

“i’m sick of their shit, y/n,” she says after taking a deep breath and lifting her head to look at you, “they’ve been acting like this the whole game. i tried to hold back but this one is on them.”

“i know they’ve been acting up, but that doesn’t mean you step in and get a technical!” you practically yell at her. everyone’s emotions were complicated at the moment, and you were letting yours get the better of you, “you can’t do that paige!”

“but i’d do it again!” she yells back, standing up to be face-to-face with you, “for you, i’d do it again because guess what? you don’t deserve this shit. i’m perfectly fine with getting a tech because they were speaking on your name. i wasn’t gonna let that slide.”

there was less than a foot of distance between you two. both of your chests were heaving as you got into a bit of a screaming match. the refs were still replaying and discussing the recent altercation, trying to determine the intensity and consequences warranted.

“fuck, paige,” you sigh as you run a hand over your face, “you can’t put your career on the line like that for me. i won’t be the reason your future is ruined.”

“what are you not understanding, y/n? i don’t care about all that right now. all i care about is you. are you telling me that you wouldn’t do the same for me?”

your expression is straight as you remain silent, knowing damn well that you would go to hell and back for this girl.

"that’s what i thought. so please don’t give me anymore shit for this and go win this game.”

after a few seconds of intense eye contact and you processing her words, you mirror her priceless smirk.

“you’re impossible,” you breathe out and shake your head before making your way back to the court, but not before paige lands a quick slap to your ass.

“like clockwork, ma, like clockwork!” she yells at you with a smile.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ──  ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗ a random girl hitting on them !

it's just you. library.

mark. he's chuckling the whole time. “dude, i have a girlfriend.” your finger traces figures on his pectoral and he simply pulls you away caught in a raucous laugh. “doesn't seem like it. stop giggling, this is serious!” he stands upright and gets serious; all his features relax and now he looks stern, but it doesn't take long for another burst attack him when you lock eyes with him. “i almost got it, dude! sorry, baby, sorry for laughing too much. you know you're the only one.”

haechan. “leave me alone, woman.” he takes the role very seriously. he gives you annoyed sideways glances and even rolls his eyes. you try so hard not to burst out laughing when he looks at you in exasperation. “you're still here?” he's really good, you feel very rejected. his gaze softens when he sees you about to lose it, “did i do a good job?” you nod, causing him to smile and snuggle up close to you “can i get my kiss now?”

chenle. it's hard to get into the role when he looks at you condescendingly and disgusted. “is that the best you can do?” you whine, “i'm trying my best, stop looking at me like that!” he grimaces dramatically in despair, “this is my don't fuck with me face! do you want me to stare at them the way i stare at you?” he gets closer to your face to intimidate you a bit more, “sorry, i have a girlfriend, fuck off,” he says, then he kisses you.

jaemin. he's not complying. like at all. “you're cute.” you look at him with a mixture of stunned and flustered. “she's not cute. stop.” you hit him lightly, “can i get your number, bonbon?” you say, exaggerating every word. “yeah.” oh, god. he doesn't even try. “jaemin na...” he looks at you with eyes stripped of judgment and fondly. you cry sulky as he pulls you to him and gives you pecks. “sorry, what's the game again?”

jeno. “you're really hot.” he looks at you confused by what you said and you almost explode with an overdose of tenderness, “aw, my baby.” he catches you when you propel yourself towards him, smiling with narrowed eyes. “i'm so confused right now.” you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, “you were supposed to reject her,” you mention, “oh, i thought the game hadn't started because you usually say that to me a lot.” you're snatch away from him when he pushes you as he says dead serious, “sorry, i have a girlfriend.”

jisung. you should give him points because he's seriously trying not to laugh. he's so cartoonish at this point. “wait a minute.” he leaves the room as if he's in a movie and he's leaving the frame so he can laugh. “you're such a terrible actor,” you chime when it's the 5th time he leaves to giggle around the corner. “hey!” he returns with a finger pointing at a empty spot. “stop! i have a girlfriend.” you raise your eyebrows, kinda surprised. he proceeds to pull you close “how was it?” he asks, smiling. you can only nod. “and now, for the final act. a kiss!”

renjun. “well i can't start if you stare at me with those eyes.” you're amazed, “that's the point.” you see him weigh, “no, 'cause you look too pretty, i can't reject you. try tousling your hair!... and do a funny face.” you do as he says, but then he burst out laughing. “baby,” you whine. “my pretty clown. i don't like you! leave me alone!” he says it so seriously and sternly that you start to believe that you shouldn't have done all that and, he (like always when you come up with silly ideas) just wanted to play dumb with you.

[lalalychee-x]

"Bad Idea!" Boothill x Reader ft. his hat

CW: NSFW! MDNI! fem!reader; sex where ur on a window sill; squirting + licking it off again lol; slight exhibitionism (the door's open); biting; Boothill's tongue has its own warning; clothes ripping; fingering; robo-dick and cyborg fingers lmao; creampie; blood from biting is mentioned like twice and barely; teasing; braless; begging; edging; sweet and soft Boothill bc he's a cutie; empty warnings; he can't breathe since he doesn't have lungs?? word count: 3415 oopsie

song4this Bad Idea by Ariana Grande

♡ Whenever Boothill's hat goes missing, he knows you're responsible, so it ends up with him hunting around for you. You run away with his hat on to tease him, and he runs after you, playfully nibbling at your cheek. It's all fun and games until the hat is the only thing you have on.. ♡ Basically, you steal his hat to tease him, but end up getting fucked silly until you apologise to him. With the hat on. And only the hat on. "Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so ya got it."

inspo post from @madamofthestars (psst, check them out! They super cool!) art creds: skoukax on insta

"C'mon now, sugar, ya know that ain't yours…!" Boothill called out behind out, his voice a mixture of frustration and amusement.

You rolled your eyes, quickly glancing back through a spin on your heel; the hat wobbling slightly as you held it in place with one hand.

You look back at him, sticking your tongue out, before giggling and darting off. You sharply turned a corner, your heart racing as you waited for the perfect moment to lead him down a wilder chase.

Boothill scoffs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, "Oh, gettin' smart now, are we?"

You spin back around, your heart racing as the clicking of his boots gets closer and quicker, "I am smart!" You taunted him a little, the brim of the hat bobbing as you picked up speed.

"Ya little fudgin' minx," Boothill muttered under his breath, his curses amusingly censored as they reached your ears. "I swear, when I get my hands on ya…"

"You can't even swear properly!" You call out again, turning your head as you ran, setting the hat askew.

You catch a glimpse of him running towards you, the sight beyond amusing to see when running at such speed. You attempt to call back, but your voice dissolves into a fit of giggles and gasps for air as you ran.

You snapped your head back, facing forward to drag out the chase. It was all fun and games until you realised you'd diverted your attention for too long and cornered yourself in a dead-end room. Boothill's imposing figure filled the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were panting but your index and thumb firmly gripped the brim of the hat, assuring it stayed on your head.

A room was an overstatement; a storage room, just maybe, with a singular horizontal window panel that stretched about a meter wide at most. It let in a few spells of moonlight.

Boothill leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over the metal plates of his chest, "Gotcha now," He laughed, the star-shaped insignia on his jacket clicking against the metal of his torso as he did so. "My hat looks mighty fine on ya, but I think it's time ya give it back."

You adjusted the hat, spining it on your low on your brow.

"Come on, just a little longer—?" You teased, batting your eyelashes in a futile attempt to charm him.

"No can do, darlin'," He chuckled again, pushing the door shut behind him. The room dimmed as the light from outside blocked out. "But if ya apologise, I'ma let you have it a bit longer."

"Ok ok, sorry!" You smile sheepishly, reaching a hand to the hat. "There, can I keep it for longer?"

Boothill looked at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were joking. "That it?"

"Well, else do you want me to say?" You stood there, a bit dumbfounded.

He stared for a second longer before edging himself closer, his face close to yours, bionic fingers tracing up and down your neck. "C'mon, apologise properly."

He tipped the hat up by the brim to expose your eyes better to him. He leaned down, the sharp edges of his teeth latching onto the soft skin of your cheek, pressing hard enough that they'd definitely leave jagged crescent-shaped scars in the morning.

He moved some hair away from your neck, his voice low against your ear as he nibbled across your jaw, "C'mon sweetcheeks, I know ya can work that mouth better than tha't. What happened to all tha't smart talk from before, hm?"

A flushed heat crawled up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink even in the dim light. It took a moment, before your quickening gasps dissolved into stutters, "A-ah, that was a j-joke…"

"A j-j-joke?" He laughed low against your ear, playfully mocking your stutter, "But you look to be takin' it real serious, sweetheart."

He paused, before licking a long stipe down from your jaw down to your collar bone. "M'still wanting that pretty lil' apology. C'mon."

God, his tongue was going to drive you insane-

You let out a shaky breath, lowering your hand from the hat on your head to place comfortably on his metal shoulder plates. "Hey hey, sorry sorry, I won't steal your hat again, ah—!"

You gasped, almost buckling over as Boothill planted a particularly mean bite through the thin skin of your collarbone.

Glancing down through hazy eyes, you watched as he swiped his tongue over his teeth, licking away the small beads of blood across his jagged dentures. "Ya said that last time too, darlin'."

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, "C'mon, I mean it this… t-time-!"

Your eyes widened, watching Boothill's teeth latch onto the neckline of your dress, yanking it roughly until it ripped. You yelped at the sudden rush of cool air against your bare chest, nipples hardening under the sudden exposure.

"Boothill!" Your arms snapped around the obnoxious tear in your clothes. "The door's practically still open!"

He chuckled, tracing a line with his sharp teeth along your breast.

He raised an eyebrow, "No bra? Yer askin' for it now, sweetheart."

Your face felt really warm again, excuses coming out nothing more than mutters, "I-It… was really warm, today…"

"Aight then, darlin'," he cupped his metal palms under your thighs, hoisting you up until you sat on the window sill, your back pressed against the pane of the window. "Besides, if we get caught, then they jus' gonna havet' give us some privacy…"

You gulped away any nervousness as he shyed away your arms from your chest. He trailed his mouth down your teared bodice, ripping fabric as he went, until he reached the waistline of your dress. He paused for a moment, before ripping a tear down it, right to the hem of the skirt, the sliced fabric falling either side of your thighs.

Goosebumps raced up the exposed skin of your thighs, eyeing when he knelt down, two loud clanks as the metal joints of his knees hit the floor.

He grinned at the sight of the thin fabric of your underwear, running his teeth along his teeth again.

"What pretty panties, hm? Was half expectin' yer to be bare down here too, sweetheart." He lifted your right leg over his shoulder. "Shame 'm gonna rip 'em so soon."

"Hey—! Come on, c-careful!" You shivered slightly as his canines hooked around the stretchy fabric, piercing a hole in them.

"Right darlin'. It's ya punishment for not apologisin'."

"H-huh—?"

There was a staggered ripping sound as your underwear ripped from top corner to bottom corner, the material coming off with the dragging of his teeth.

You yelp, gripping his hair, "You—! Are you going to fucking shred everything I'm wearing—?!"

"Yeah, am plannin' on it, darlin'." He chuckled before trailing his tongue up your slit, already a drooling mess between your legs.

You shiver, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, the door cracked open only making your heart race faster. Oh Aeons, if someone were to see you exposed to him like this, pressed up against the window—

"Shh, relax sweetheart. The thrill's the best part. Jus' breathe for me, ok?" He began to rub up and down your slit, his voice soothing and his thumb lingering at your clit for a moment too long just to force a whine out of you. "But if I were ya, I'd start apologisin' if you wanna cum this time."

"H-haah—?!"

He didn't respond to your breathless protest, but circled two fingers around your entrance, watching amused as slick pooled on his fingertips. "Stubborn? Y'need some encouragement, do ya?"

He licked a long stripe up again letting tongue swirl around your clit before slipping a finger in, his mouth still hot against your folds.

He grinned and looked up at your nervous expression melting into pleasure, his head leaning against the inside of your thigh. "There y'go, sweetheart, ain't that feel good?"

"Hnngh—!" You desperately tried to roll your hips on his finger, only to fail and your body halt into a series stutters.

"Really fudgin' desperate, are we?" He laughed a little, sucking in a breath. "Hol' on, darlin', I'll find it."

He slid his finger in and out tantalisingly slow, his tongue brushing over your clit; you could feel the steel of his teeth occasionally that irked your body with shocks of pleasure. Content with your faltering ego, he slipped another finger in, the stretch making you wince before whining.

"B-boothill, 'm sorry, please-let-me-just, a-ah—!" Your eyes widen, one hand curved over and gripping the window sill and the other firmly on his hair.

"Hm, what's that darlin'?" He stupidly grins, his bottom lip glossed over with spit and your arousal. "Didn't quite hear ya…"

He curled his two fingers upwards, the rubber pads on his fingertips pressing firmly against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"F-fuckkknngh…" Your eyes roll out of focus, hips subcounciously rocking against his bent fingers and your back arched until your head pressed against the window pane — with the hat still on.

He clicked his tongue. "There. 'M found it. Now where are my sorries and Iwontdoitagain's?" He began to pump the two fingers in and out, roughly pressing against that sweet spot every thrust of them. "Still want a proper apology, sweetheart—"

He stays substantially quiet — amiss a few amused hums and chuckles — listening to your flurry of apologies and letting you listen to the sloppy squelches of your cunt.

"God, I'm sorry— I won't—"

"Oh, is that so, darlin'?"

"H-hn, god, I won't do it again—!"

"Sure ya won't, darlin'…" He sucked in a breath, voice shaky between your legs, before picking up the pace with a stupid grin on his face, flashing his shark teeth. You whine, rocking your hips in helpless stutters, your pussy openly accepting the change in pace and clenching around his digits while he curls them deeper and quicker inside of you. "Fuckfuckfuckk— I'm sorry, sorrysorry— pleasejust—"

Boothill grinned at your mush of words. Your mouth hung open, chewing at your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to muffle the drunk blabbles that spilled out of your mouth.

He mutters, his voice low between your trembling thighs, "C'mon sweetheart, y'mouth can beg better than that." He rolls his tongue over your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out, sticky threads leaking from your cunt and sprawling between his fingers and the sides of your thighs.

You clenched your eyes shut, tears pricking at your eyes, "Boothill, c'mon, 'm sorryyy— w-won't do it again— promise—!"He lets out a low hum, gently flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue— oh god, his damned tongue. A flash of panic spread across your face, feeling him begin to slow down.

"Or what, sweetheart?" He experimentally twisted his hand agonisingly slow as he pumped in and out, pistoning your cunt with his fingers at deeper angles, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Please, 'm gonna — hic — c-cum—!" Tears began pricking at your eyes, "God, please, fuck, I've learned my lesson —!" Your pleas come out in choked sobs, "Please don't — hic — slow down—!"

"Attagirl," He grinned, the flat steel of his teeth pressed up against your slit as his tongue flit over that bundle of nerves at the tip that drove you insane, quicker this time, "Jus' a bit more, yeah?"

He slid in for a final time and jerked his hand upwards, settling his fingers into you, firmly hooking repeatedly into that sweet spot. His voice and laugh were teasing, vibrations low and tempting between the plush of your thighs. "C'mon — make a real fudgin' mess on m'face, sweetheart."

"B-boothill, 'm gonna—!"

Your fingers grip the smooth locks of his hair, head pushed against the glass, his name shamelessly spilling out of your mouth. Specks of white flash from behind your eyes, vision going hazy and choked moans straggering from your throat.

You hear him chuckle lightly underneath you, cooing at the clench around his fingers and the gushes of viscid liquid coating his tongue, lips and fingers so well.

He slowly pulled away after rubbing strangely vexing circles a few more times inside you. He glances up at you with a satisfied grin, his mouth and chin glossy with your fluids.

Lowering your thigh from his shoulder, he let it dangle back over the window sill before standing up with a loud scrape of his metal joints against the floor.

He cleaned his fingers clean of the sheeny, pretty slick with his tongue and making sure to roll them around in his mouth before taking them out with a 'pop—!'

"Real mess y'made, sweetcheeks." He grinned, flashing his teeth at you, as he used the back of his hand to wipe away any remnants. "Tastes real good, though."

"H-hnn…" Your voice came out rough and croaky, your head lolling to one side, setting the hat to tumble off your head.

He snapped a hand to the hat, placing it back on your head with a mischievious smile, "No no, keep it on. Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so y'got it."

You blink for a few moments, regaining your breath, "Oh, fuck you—!"

"With pleasure—"

"What am I going to wear when getting out of here?! At least you're clothed!" You motion to the sliced fabric on either side of your legs, and the ripped bodice of your dress hanging on dear threads.

With your comment, he slipped off and discarded his jacket that didn't even cover much anyway.

"Ya won't need anythin' for a while now, darlin'. Think of it when we get there." Boothill laughed, flicking away the torn rags. "Besides, y'look good with just the hat on. Think I've put your mouth to enough good use too."

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to say something but quickly shutting it again at the swift unbuckling of his belt; it heaves down to his thighs from the weight of the cartridges hung on it.

His fingers travel, hitching onto a cock of metal plates, the edges of them encased in thick black rubber right from the girth until reaching a swollen tip of black rubber.

You sharply breathe, eyeing the scale-like texture, taking note of every rib on it as it lined up against you. You suddenly blush at the realisation of mouth almost salivating, muttering, "You so owe me a new dress after this—"

Boothill let out an amused hum, one hand wiping a line of drool from your lip then trailing down to your tits, cupping the flesh with cold metal fingers. You shiver, the skin on your chest pebbled with goosebumps before gasping at a sudden bite along the sensitive skin.

"—?!"

The quick spike of pain quickly subsided into a tingly sort of pleasure as Boothill's tongue drove around the swelling mark, peppering a few more as he went until he was so bent over into you that his cock pushed up against your pussy, the metal cool against your puffy and swollen clit.

"Ah, fudge, darlin'—" He grits his teeth, feeling the warmness of you just on his tip. He huffs a little, barely fitting it in voice raspy as his face is buried into your neck. "Open up a bit, sweetheart will ya—?"

He backs away for a moment to grab both of your legs, hooking them firmly over his shoulders. You groaned at the stretch, keeping both hands on the window sill in desperation. He grinned at your pussy spread wider over his tip now, clenching around it and sheening the bulb of rubber with slick. "There y'go…"

He groaned, breathing shaky as he slid it slowly. "A-ah, God—"

"A-ah, God—" Your eyes widen, rolling out of focus from feeling every metal rib of his cock push into you, forcing it thick and hard into your cunt until it reached the base. You tense, locking your legs around his neck. "Fuck, I told you to be careful—!"

He let out a shaky laugh, "Sorry 'bout that darlin'—"

He places one hand on the window sill for leverage, the other coming to press the hat down on your head. With a sharp breath in, he begins to move, deep long strokes at first to make sure you felt every bump along the scale-plating of his cock against your walls.

And, god, did it drive you insane; the texture was too much, almost sending your sending your already-sensitive pussy into overstimulation. "Hnn, t-too much —! Boothillholdon, itsgonnahmph—!"

"Jus' relax, darlin', you've taken it before…" He whispers low into your ear, stressing the pace of his movements, losing himself in the warmth of your cunt and grinning at your indecipherable mush of words spilling from your mouth again. Muffled groans escape as he listens to your moans, picking up the pace.

You subconciously roll your hips against the thrusting of his cock, every metal plate rubbing smooth and hard against your walls, the thick rubber of his tip hitting hard against your g-spot.

"Killer hips y'got there, baby—" He cooes breathlessly in your ear, his own voice breaking as he thrust in and out of your sopping cunt. You flush a deep red, your face now hot and bothered when you realise how desperate you were against his cock.

You open your mouth to reply, probably with something smart but your lips are greeted with the stark taste of iron and your own slick on his tongue as his mouth kisses yours shut. You whine through his lips, feeling his tongue deep in your mouth until your whole body shivered and tingled. You tried to keep your eyes open, only to end up crossing them over in a fucked-out haze.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, locking him tighter in place to bully his cock deeper into your cunt. His eyes widened at the lock, then he grinnned.

"Fudge, y'not lettin' m'get away, are ya—?" He groaned before huffing out a laugh, finally lowering his hand from the hat on your head to place them both on your hips, roughly slamming them onto him to target that sweet spot inside you.

"Hnn — hic — god, m'gonna—" Your words come out slobbery, your lips glossed over and drooling.

"C'mon, pretty, cum f'me…" He dug the metal of his fingers into your hips, his own beginning to stutter and shake as he moved. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit in uneven circles to drag the orgasm out of you. "Make a real mess, sweetheart—"

Patches of white and yellow flash behind your eyes, your hips buckling forward. You let out a long choked moan that stuttered with every slackening thrust of his hips that gummed your insides with thick ropey spills of cum.

Gently, he slowed until the stimulation against your slit burned off, leaving you tingly and weak. Weak enough to finally let go of the leg lock you had on his neck.

The grip on your hips slackened as he pulled away, whistling at the mess between you both. He took a moment to watch the white slick drip between your legs. "Feel full as a tick yet, darlin'?"

You tried to respond, but your whole body almost lolled to the side, only stopped quickly by his arm. He gazed down at you, stupidly grinning and laughing at the sight. "What'd I say, darlin'? I did shut up that smart mouth of yours." He clicked his tongue in thought, "Even got m'self the cutest little apologies—"

With any remaining energy you had, you playfully whacked him on the arm and cut him off, to which he faked a wince. He had forgotten the bodily difference in stamina between you two.

"Ouch— fudge, darlin', at least you got some spark left in ya. Fine, 'ma buy you a… no, ten dresses in turn, 'kay?" He pressed a small kiss on your forehead then eyed the dimly lit room, catching sight of the hat that had tumbled off your head at some point and the jacket he had teasingly thrown off. "For now, 'm jacket and that hat are gonna have to do."

"Oh, fuck you—" You scoff, your head in the curl of his elbow.

He smiled, running his hand through your hair. "C'mon, y'wanted to wear that hat so badly. Y'looked real good in it…"

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[vanesycho]

Summary: You are playing Whisper Game with Nct127, what could be bad? Until you forget Haechan's real name and this is pissed him off. And if he got you alone, he will do something so as not to make you forget his real name.

Warnings:Smut,fingering,getting caught(?)

wc:1,7k

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“Come on Y/n, this is going to be fun.”

You looked at Jungwoo’s pleading gaze, all of you gathered at home sipping your drinks when Jungwoo said he was bored and wanted to play a game. Everyone admitted they were bored and said they wanted to play, except you of course.

“But I’m really bad at this game, I’m not good at lip reading.”

“Don’t spoil it Y/n, no one is good at this game, the point is to have fun.”

Everyone looked at you with curiosity as Doyoung spoke, waiting for your answer. Frankly, you didn’t want to just sit around while everyone else played the game, so…

“Okay then, let’s play.”

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A few minutes had passed, you didn't expect to have this much fun. You held your stomach that ached from laughing as you looked at Mark and Haechan.

"Your favorite member."

You looked at Haechan's lips that were pursed forward as he spelled. He caught your gaze for a brief moment and wet his lips before repeating the sentence.

"Your favorite member!! Oh really Mork you can't be that stupid."

"Did you say Mark stupid?!"

Mark stood up laughing, the other members stopped him laughing as they realized the time was up. Haechan took off his headphone and grumbled as he sat down.

"Oh I can't believe we're going to get the least points."

"Don't worry you won't get it while I'm here."

You sat on one of the chairs and put on your headphones. Jaehyun sat across from you.

“Are you ready?”

You shook your head, he smiled at you briefly and you started the game.

You knew the first few words easily, to your own surprise, even if it was because of Jaehyun’s explanation. When you got to the third word, Jaehyun laughed and you looked at him carefully when he kept his seriousness and moved his lips.

“Haechan’s real name.”

You frowned, were you reading it right or did Haechan say it?

“Haechan what?”

“Haechan’s real name. Name.”

You paused for a moment and looked at Haechan, he laughed at that. He said something but you couldn't hear it because of the music.

"Haechan's name? Haechan...?"

You could see some of the members around you laughing, you tried again trying to make sense of it.

"Aah Haechan's real name? It's-"

You paused and pressed your lips together when you realized you forgot, you didn't usually call him by his real name and you got confused because of the loud music.

"Wait a minute what's Haechan's name!"

Everyone was laughing and looking at Haechan, Haechan was looking at you with a fixed look. No, you didn't forget his real name just now?

You thought for a moment and when it came to you, you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, then you raised your head and answered.

"Lee Donghyuck. Ah really..."

When the time was up, you took off your headphones and when you turned around, everyone had gotten off the couch and were lying on the floor, exhausted from laughing.

"Forgetting Haechan's real name was my favorite part Y/n."

You closed your eyes with a whimper as Johnny spoke, and when you took your place, your eyes searched for Haechan. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw him laughing and having fun with the members as if nothing had happened. You were grateful that at least he didn't get mad at you.

──────────────────────

"It's too late, stay here tonight. You can leave tomorrow after breakfast."

It was a common occurrence for you to stay in the same house as them, it wasn't strange, you were all close and they always make room for you.

"So...whose room will I steal tonight?"

"Mine."

When Haechan spoke, you turned to him, he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"Haechan, are you sure?"

He spoke without taking his eyes off you.

"Sure, I'll prepare the room for you."

There was something strange about him but you couldn't make sense of it, you decided not to think too much about it and walked towards his room.

You opened the door and saw Haechan packing some of his own important things, you sat on the edge of your bed and watched him.

“Hey, we’re not going to get on bad terms because of what happened today, right? It was just that the music was too loud and I felt like I completely stopped thinking.”

You heard a hysterical laugh come out, Haechan came across you and leaned over as he placed his hands on either side of you, you lifted your head and watched him. He looked at your lips for a moment, his eyes going up to yours and he whispered.

“What’s my name?”

“What?”

“My name.Y/n.”

“Haec-”

He pushed you by the shoulders and got on top of you, you looked at him nervously as he placed his knee between your legs. When he leaned down again, he moved towards your neck, you stopped breathing when you felt his hot breath, he whispered into your ear.

“What were you saying?”

You turned your head away as your ear tingled with his breath, Haechan grabbed your chin with one hand and made you look at him.

“It’s way past time to play games, are you trying to test my patience?”

You shook your head in a negative tone, he couldn’t be doing all of this just because you forgot his name. Right? Well, if it was Haechan, it was possible.

“Donghyuck.”

Haechan grinned as his real name came out of his mouth for perhaps the first time, leaning in and pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

His fingertips began to caress your body through your clothes. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath, you let out a deep breath, Haechan continued, enjoying your reaction.

“Dongyuck, please…”

He stopped his movements and looked at you, his gaze not scaring you but stirring something inside you. He couldn’t look this good when he was serious.

“Mark and Johnny’s room is right next to us.”

“So? Should that scare me?”

He started to press small kisses to your neck. He spoke as his warm breath hit your neck again.

“If you’re quiet, we won’t get in trouble, you can do this, right?”

You shook your head when he looked at you questioningly. He grinned and you held your breath so that you wouldn’t make a sound when he pressed his knee to your pussy.

“See? You can do it, baby.”

You watched him take off your shorts, shivering under his touch as his hands brushed your skin lightly. He leaned in closer and moved closer to your lips, surprising you as you were expecting him to kiss you, he pulled your panties aside and began to gently caress you with his fingertips.

“Hyuck-”

He grinned at your reaction and spoke against your lips.

"Ah...I didn't even touch you properly and fuck...you're soaking wet."

When he effortlessly inserted a finger inside you, you buried your head in Haechan's neck to keep from moaning, Haechan took a deep breath as he listened to your moanings. When he started to speed up the movements of his finger, you couldn't help but moan loudly.

"Ah-ah be quiet. We don't want them to know how I made you moan like that with just one finger."

He grabbed your chin with his free hand and made you look at him. He started kissing your lips, adding a second finger as he started to suck on your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth, your voice not coming out as loud because of his kiss.

After a while, you felt your stomach tighten, you spoke with a teary voice as the pleasure inside you increased.

"Hyuck- I..."

He knew that you were getting close before you even had to finish the sentence, and he was going to give you what you wanted. But the sound of knocking on the door made you turn your head in fear.

You looked at Haechan, his fingers still moving inside you.

"Y/n? Do you know where Haechan is?"

Your heart raced in fear when you heard Yuta's voice. Haechan leaned in and whispered in your ear.

"Answer."

You shook your head in negative.

"I can't..P-please stop for now."

When he added his third finger, you screamed with this unexpected movement, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. Haechan ignored this and laughed at your reaction, keep moving his fingers inside you.

"Y/n? Are you okay? Did something happen?"

You buried your head in Haechan's shoulder again, feeling his breath on your ear again.

"Either you answer now or I'll stop and never make you cum."

You lifted your head and tried to catch your breath, doing everything you could to make your voice sound right.

"I'm okay, it's just...Ah..I, I hit my foot on the corner of the table."

He chuckled at the excuse you found. You pressed your lips together as he sped up his fingers.

"Come on, come on my fingers. You can do it baby, right?"

Instead of answering, you continued to moan, the lack of sound from Yuta at the door frightened you, but the pleasure overcame that. You let yourself go under Haechan.And finally came his fingers, you closed your eyes and tried to collect yourself, you felt his lips on yours. When you opened your eyes you saw him licking his fingers that were full of your cum, the sight made you turn your head away in embarrassment.

"We were getting caught."

This time, he kissed your cheek and said with a smile.

"But we weren't caught, were we?"

"You were caught Haechan. I've been waiting for you for minutes, don't come to my room and stay there. After all, you guys can sleep in the same bed now."

When you heard footsteps, you realized Yuta was gone now. You buried your face in the pillow and made a tearful sound. You spoke angrily, but your voice came out muffled.

"I can't believe this, I'll never be able to look Yuta in the face again."

He placed his pillow next to you and leaned back, putting his arms behind his head. You looked at his comfort in surprise. He turned his head to you and looked down at your body, seeing that you still had no shorts on.

"So...Round two?"

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I really messed up on this one👍🏻 this was my first time writing smut (as it's obvious) I hope you guys liked it bcuz idk😭

[ncttytrack]

perv!bestfriend!jake who ends up fucking you one day after you catch him stealing yout panties😻

This scenario 😵‍💫

Pantie stealer! - s.j

He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty.

Genre: perv!bestfriend!jake x reader

Words: 3,8k+

Warnings: Jake is a massive perv, creampie, shocking, Dom!jake, sub!reader, lowkey size kink

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You and your best friend Jake have always been very close and your friendship started way back when you were eight years old. Your family had just moved in next door and you decided to invite Jake’s family over for dinner to welcome the new neighbors. You and Jake clicked instantly, enjoying the same tv-shows, games, movies, sports - everything, and you have been friends since then. After school you always hung out, ignoring the classmates making fun of you both and calling you a couple, they didn’t know your friendship. Jake was in your eyes only a friend - nothing more, nothing less.

But everything changed when you both hit puberty, the teenage hormones completely taking over your body. Jake clearly remembers the first day he thought you were attractive, and much more than a just friend. Yes, as kids he always thought you were cute, referring you to his other friends as the “cute girl next door”, but now it was different.

He was at the ripe age of sixteen, and just invited you over to chill out by his pool with his other friends. The sun was shining bright, and it was the middle of July, making the weather extra hot - perfect for a cooling pool day. He remembers laying down on a sunbed, watching his friends, Sunghoon and Jay, play in the pool, when you suddenly catch his eye in the corner. He watched as you slowly pulled off your t-shirt and unbuttoned your shorts, showing off a bright blue bikini with spaghetti straps.

The last time he saw your body was the year before, and he could confidently say that a lot had happened since then. His eyes scanned your body, from your much bigger boobs, down to your ass - filling out the bikini bottom you were wearing perfectly. And the straps of the bikini top were tied at the front, and only a weak tugg would let your boobs loose, exposing what he at that moment so desperately wanted to see.

“Damn, seems like your friend have grown up the last time I saw her”, said Heeseung, leaning down on his sunbed beside him - using his elbows to push himself up to get a clear view of your frame. Jake could feel the embarrassment by the warmth of his cheeks, not liking how his friend talked about you, pushing Heeseung away. “Man, shut up”.

But he was right, you had grown up. You had actually grown up a lot, and since then, it has been difficult for Jake to be around you.

As Jake was eye fucking you by the pool, trying not to make it obvious (even though everyone could see the massive bulge forming under his swimshorts), you did the same. It’s not like you were any different, noticing how Jake's soft baby stomach turned to chiseled abs over the years when watching him lay down on his sunbed. When you got eye contact, you looked away, trying to distract yourself by jumping into the pool to play with his friends.

Jake tried not to be a perv, but always failed miserably, until he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Always trying to catch glances through the door crack when you showered at his place, feeling his dick twitch when he saw the way you massaged the soap on your tits - watching the soap glide down your body to your core. Purposely dropping something to the floor, making you bend in front of him to pick it up, making it possible for him to shamelessly look at your ass in those short-shorts you always wore during the summers. Jerking off to you almost every night, trying to imagine you in cute lingerie, black ones, screaming his name for more. “Jake, Jake!”

Now you were both older, in your twenties to be exact, and you didn’t live with your parents anymore. Because you and Jakes are both broke college students, you decided to live in an apartment together, since you had been friends for such a long time and it possibly couldn’t get weird between the two of you. But, this has only been more difficult for Jake, and being around you 24/7 is slowly driving him crazy. You had become very comfortable in your new shared apartment, walking around almost naked, just wearing those cute underwear sets he had imagined all those years ago.

His perverted actions continued because of this, sneakily taking pictures of your almost naked frame to either save for later, or to send to his other friends to brag about his hot roommate walking around in only underwear. “Dude I’m so jealous, if I were you I would have already fucked the shit out of her by now”. He looked at the text Sunghoon sent him. If he could decide, then yes, you would’ve already been leaking with his cum by now. But he can’t, he can’t ruin the friendship you have shared for so long.

But you’ve made it impossible for Jake to not act out his dirty thoughts, and that is the situation Jake happens to be in now.

While laying on his bed palming himself by the thought of you, he figured that jerking off to only the thought of you was simply not enough. He needed something from you, something that could help him get off, something…like your cute panties you always wore. He could describe them to the letter, they were black, which happened to be his favorite color, lace panties with a little bow at the front. The panties hugged your figure perfectly, showing the exact right amount of ass for him to get hard. He knew what he had to do.

It was 2 am, and he quietly sneaked into your bedroom, being extra careful to not wake you up. As he walked to your drawer, he watched your sleeping figure. “Cute” You looked so peaceful, and he almost began to feel guilty for what he was about to do. But he was more horny than guilty, shamelessly opening the first drawer to immediately find your black lace panties. His hand begins to touch the fabric, rubbing it against his long fingers, and immediately his cock hardens at the feeling.

He couldn’t stop himself, hastily bringing up the fabric to his nose, smelling the detergent - letting the smell fill him up. He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty. Without getting caught, he sneaked out of your bedroom and entered his own over the hall.

That night was arguably the best night of his life, using your panties to jerk himself off. First he would lay them on top of his face, closing his eyes imagining you sitting on his face, before grabbing the black laced panties and wrapping it around his cock. “Fuck, y/n” The feeling of the soft lace against his hard, swollen, cock was all it took for him to shoot the fattest load of cum - making the fabric completely soaked. But that wasn’t enough for him to get off, the sight of your drenched panties making his cock hard again, so hard that it almost began to hurt.

His dick was already sore, hurting when just softly touching the tip, making Jake let out a hiss from pain. As he did before, he wrapped your panties and wrapped it around his cock, carefully jerking it up and down. It was so painful, but also felt so good, letting out moans while tears streamed down his face.

He felt so disgusting for this, imagining that it was you he fucked, and not your panties. Imagining that you were on all fours, desperately crying and screaming for him to fuck you harder, deeper, faster, until beeing compleatly filled with his cum - watching it leek out from your used up hole. He could even imagine what you would taste like, bringing up your panties to his mouth and imagine that his cum was yours, sucking and licking the fabric. Just that though, that taste, made him cum again, and once more after that, before being too tired to continue.

It was the next afternoon, around 6pm, and Jake was heading home from campus to his apartment. You didn’t have any lessons that day, and decided to stay home to do some chores before Jake gets back. Jake has been acting weird lately, maybe something was bugging him? To be a nice roommate, you wanted to do something nice for Jake, opening his bedroom door to tidy up his dirty room.

It looked like a mess, dirty clothes everywhere on the floor and his bed was far from tidy. Couldn’t he at least make his bed before he headed to college? Or did he use the argument that he was still going to sleep on it later, so why make the bed anyway?

After throwing his dirty clothes away in the laundry basket in his room, you walked up to his bed to tidy it up. As you lifted one of his pillows you were met with an astounding sight. Under his pillows were your panties, and your favorite pair too, covered in white stains. Omg…did he steal your panties? You picked them up and immediately knew what Jake had done with them.

The white stains were his cum. He had used your panties to get himself off, and probably more than once by the looks of it. The, still wet, panties were way too distracting for you to hear Jake coming home, getting surprised when he suddenly opens the door to his bedroom.

When he saw you, holding the thing he thought he hid good enough for you to not find it, he panicked. “Y/n… what are you doing?” You looked back at Jake, and then at the panties you were holding once more. You let out a chuckle “What am I doing? No, Jake, what are you doing? Are these my panties?” He gulped down the saliva that was forming in his mouth out of nervousness. Fuck, what have I done.

He never answered, just stared at you nervously. “Did you- you- jerk off using my panties”. You couldn’t help but to feel the arousal between your legs by the thought of him wrapping your lace panties around his hard pulsating cock, letting out soft groans - probably thinking about you while doing it. Subconsciously you clench your thighs together at this thought, something that Jake noticed.

The sudden smirk forming on Jake's face by the sight of your clenching thighs didn’t go unrecognized by you, immediately backing away from him when he suddenly walked closer to you. “Maybe I did, do you like that? The thought of me jerking off with your cute little panties, hm?”

You didn’t recognise the Jake you have always known in front of you, but this new, discovered, version of him sure did turn you on. His eyes were dark, hooded, and he licked his lips by the sight of your nervous figure. Still walking away from him, you felt the edge of his bed by your knees, falling down by Jake pushing you to your back. He doesn't waste a single second before towering over you, putting his leg between your knees to tease your core. The feeling sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, letting out a small whine from your mouth - but still loud enough for Jake to hear.

“You don’t know how long I've wanted this y/n, to trap you underneath me”. He leaned down to your hair, smelling it to fill him with the scent of your shampoo. “Mm, you smell sooo good baby” The action sends shivers through your spine, and hearing the pet name makes you wetter than what you even were before. You never knew how much of a pervert your life-time friend was, even getting a boner by the smell of your hair.

“J-jake, what are you doing” you say, trying to make sense of what is happening right now. Your body is already trembling by his words, and his leg is pushing harder and harder against your core. The smirk on his face grows wider when he feels the wet patch on your underwear against his leg. Thank god you were wearing a cute short skirt, without stockings even, making it so easy for him to feel you up. It’s as if you were asking for it.

“Oh, you know what I’m doing y/n, and by the looks of it it seems like you want me to continue”, Jake says while pushing his leg up even further against your pussy. Not thinking rationally anymore, you begin to grind your hips against his jeans, arching your back when the harsh fabric rubs against your clothed clit. He lets out a chuckle at the sight, he had no idea you could be this desperate.

He suddenly grabs your jaw with his hand, forcing you to look at him - still rubbing yourself against his leg. “Look at you, just begging to get fucked”, he says and pouts his lips at you, his other hand sneaking up to your waist, and up your shirt. You feel his cold hand against your warm skin under your shirt, slowly creeping up towards your boobs, only to slide down to your stomach again. He was such a tease, so close to giving you what you want, but not doing anything before you actually give him your word.

“If you want to fuck me that bad then just do it, Jake” you say, trying to sound as demanding as possible, though failing when the feeling of his hand grabbing your boob makes you let out a loud whine. The sound, mixed with the sight, makes Jake so hard it’s almost painful.

"Yeah?, Do you want me to? Want to get stuffed with Jakey's cock?” As he says this, he suddenly lifts your whole body up with his hands, and replaces his leg with the bulge in his pants. It’s then you finally can feel him. Just by the feeling alone, you know it’s big, probably already leaking with preecum ready fuck you dumb.

“You are such a pervert Jake”, you say while Jake lifts up your shirt, taking it off your body to see more of you. He licks his lips, finally seeing your boobs without a bra, and leans down to wrap his head around your nipple. The feeling of his soft tongue licking and sucking your sensitive bud, occasionally using his teeth to make it more painful, makes you let out a cry, automatically grabbing his hair. You can feel the smirk on his lips against your nipple, “Oh, yeah?”

You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you, completely letting this feeling of arousal take over you. “Yeah, you are, sneaking into my room, taking my panties, you are so-” he sneaks his hand under your skirt and presses it against your clit, making you unable to finish your sentence. “sooo dirty, I know, but you love it don’t you?, say the words and I will give it to you.”

You look up at the man in front of you and you can’t believe this is happening right now. This is the same Jake you have known since you were eight, the same Jake you always talked to about other boys, the same Jake you shared everything with. And now he is on top of you, making you beg for his cock. Fuck he is hot right now, looking down at you like you are nothing but his play thing. His sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead, his mouth is agape, letting out heavy breaths from the feeling of his clothes dick against the wet path forming in your underwear.

“Please, Jake”. He looks down at you with a smirk on his face before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is rough, as if you both have waited for this moment forever, and it doesn't take long before he pushes his tongue into your mouth. You let him take over you completely, letting him be incharge of what he wants to do and therefore when he pushes you tongue so deep inside your mouth you almost choke, you just take it. As he pulls away from you he grabs your neck, squeezing it. “Fuck you look so cute with my hand around your neck, baby”

While his hand is still on your neck, he uses his other to unbutton his pants and pulls them down alongside his boxers. The sight of his massive cock makes your mouth water. It’s not only massive in length but also in girth, and the tip is red and already leaking with preecum. You can’t wait anymore, pulling down your skirt to throw it on floor.

The sight of your soaked underwear is sending Jake over the edge, almost cuming in his pants by the way you are leaking. He brings his hands down to your clothes pussy, before tugging the fabric harshly upwards against your core. You let out a loud whine, desperately grinding yourself against the fabric, hiding your face behind your hands out of embarrassment. Because of this, Jake slaps the side of your thigh, making you scream out of pain. “Don’t cover your face, baby, I want to see you” You follow his demands, lifting your hands up from your face and instead grab his shoulders.

He leans down towards your panties, using his teeth to pull them down. “I’m saving these for later” He says and licks his lips, while bringing the fabric up to his nose to smell your panties in front of you. You let out a gasp “J-Jake!”, trying to grab the panties from him. “Ah-ah” Jake says, before throwing them on his night stand before you could stop him.

Before you could complain any further, he brought his cock down to your entrance, dragging the tip up and down against your pussy. He clenches his jaw trying to not push himself inside of you this instant, wanting to tease you enough first until you finally beg for him to go further.

The feeling of his hard cock grinding against your sore clit, makes your head spin, and you want more, pushing your hips up and down - grinding on his length. Jake looks down at you. You look so cute like this, his hand still around your throat, eyes completely shut from the pleasure, pleasure from the way you grind on his cock.

Tears are starting to form in your eyes when it takes too long for Jake to take it one step further. You are so close, but this is still not getting enough to reach your high. He almost laughs at your face when seeing how close you are, desperately trying to cum, but simply can’t before getting stuffed by his cock.

“J-jake, please just fuck me already!” He bites his lips, finally getting the words he always wanted. He uses his hand to push your body down, forcing you to stop grinding against his cock, before grabbing your hips with both of his hands. “You could’ve just said so, pretty”

The feeling of your warm pussy wrapping around Jake's cock, makes him throw his head back. Fuck. It felt so good, feeling you clench around him. And by the looks of it, you felt good too, letting out small moans from the way his cock stretches you out perfectly. He looks down at your stomach, and almost let out a whine from the sight of the bump. He can see his cock inside of you. One of Jake’s hands leaves your hip to come in contact with your stomach, his palm pushing down against the soft skin to feel his cock inside your stomach.

“Say my name” He says, still not moving, probably until you do as he says. You are shaking underneath him, and the only thing you want him to do is to fill you up completely. “Jake” He lets out a shaky breath from the way you say his name, string to pull out of your pussy - getting ready to fuck into you again. “Yeah, baby, one more. Can you do that for me?” He says, almost begging you at this point.

“Jake-!” you scream out his name as he slams into you, already pulling in and out of you at a fast pace. The hold on his shoulders gets stronger, trying your hardest to not collapse underneath him. The speed Jake fucks you almost rips you apart, and by the sight of your tears streaming down your face makes Jake let out a groan. “Fuck, y/n, you are mine, understand that? My own little cum slut” he says, not slowing down one bit, already starting to get closer to his release.

“Your cum slut, only yours!” the way he fucks you have turned you into a animal, and the thought of this being your best friend is long gone by now. Jake only fucks you harder after hearing your words, bringing his hand down to your clit to rub it - knowing it feels good for you. And oh it does, the feeling of his harsh fingers against your soft bud makes you scream out his name.

"J-Jake! I’m close-” you scream as Jake lifts up your legs on his shoulders, making him fuck into you even deeper. “Yeah? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock”. His words send shivers through your whole body, and you do as he says, cuming all over his cock. Him not being done with you, he still fucks into you, overstimulating you to the max before finally cuming as well.

He looks down at your pussy, and it’s completely drenched, juices still leaking out from your fucked up hole. He has to taste you. Before you could stop him, he leans down to your soaked pussy, tasting your cum mixed with his own on his taste buds. “Mm, you taste so good, baby”. He grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to his warm mouth, not letting you leave, wanting to lick up all your juices before he was done.

Before almost making you cum for the second time by his mouth, he pulls away to look at you. You had never been so beautiful, laying completely ruined on his bed and your body is wet from the sweat and the cum. Your big teary eyes look up at him, “That-that was amazing, Jake” You say, giving him a weak smile, making his dick twitch.

He leans down to kiss your forehead, patting the top of your head. “Good for you that this isn’t the last time we are doing this then.” He says before laying beside you on his bed, pulling your naked body into his.

[helen-with-an-a]

Badger

Hi. So this is a little thought I've had in my head for a while based on the fact that none of the English commentators can pronounce Ona's name properly.

Ona Batlle x reader

Description: You're convinced Ona doesn't like your nickname for her

Word Count: 4.2k

It had been a gruelling game, the ball rolling end to end creating little respite for any player. Goals were flying in left and right from both sides. It was a draw in the final minute of overtime and both teams were desperate not to share points. A spectacular tackle from Ona had prevented Hemp from scoring, allowing the ball to be collected and fed all the way back up the pitch. It had ricocheted around the City box before falling to your feet. It was instinctual, not thought or planning behind it, yet as the ball sailed pasted Roebuck’s fingers – it was like it was destiny. It was by no means your first goal for United, nor your first goal of the game. But it felt like it. The crowd erupted, the music drowned out by the noise and the rush of blood in your head.

The Blues had no time to score an equaliser. You watched as the seconds ticked down – City trying to press again, although the fight had clearly been lost in them. Finally, finally, the Ref blew the whistle. Old Trafford erupted. It had been an exciting game for the fans – lots of goals, tough tackles, harsh words, decent referring. As a player it had been exhausting but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ona was the first one to you, somehow making the distance in record time despite being further down the pitch.

“Mi hermosa superestrella!” She shouted as she threw herself onto your back. You stumbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly as the adrenaline disappeared from your veins. “Mi maravillosa, hermosa, fantástica, increíble, magnífica, bella goleadora.” She littered each word with an array of kisses to your head, her arms wrapping around your neck as she made herself comfortable – clearly showing you she wasn’t getting down any time soon.

“Stop,” you whined, getting shy under her compliments.

“Nope, never.” She laughed again, squeezing her legs tighter around your waist in a hug. You discretely pinched the underneath of her thigh, close to the hem of her shorts. “Aye,” she squealed. “Can’t a girl compliment her amor de su vida after she had an incredible game?” She pressed a sneaky kiss to your jaw as you made your way towards the fans.

You knew the fans would be going crazy over your behaviour; you had never made your relationship a secret. Ona often featured in your monthly photo dumps, your Instagram stories showing carefully selected insights into your life. Her Instagram was the same, filled with private moments that neither of you minded sharing with fans. Videos of you after matches were all over the internet – hugs that lasted too long to be just friendly, kisses pressed into sweaty hairlines and shiny foreheads, your body being wrapped around her smaller frame as the final whistle went, neither of you leaving each other sides until you were sure they were fine after a tackle gone wrong.

You were walking you way around the stadium, laughing along to Mary and Tooney’s jokes as you fell into step with them. It was as you were passing Alex and Fara that you heard your name be called out. Instinctively, you turned – naturally bringing Ona with you as she was still securely wrapped around you. Alex was beckoning you over – a microphone outstretched and an expectant smile. You tilted your head back to look at Ona, expecting her to have loosened her legs by now. Yet her grip held firm, nodding in the direction of the TV cameras. You shrugged, readjusted her on your hips and came to join the women.

“And here we have Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” Alex said, laughing at the way you stood. Had she really just said that?

“Hi, sorry about this one,” you gestured with your head. “She always says her legs don’t work after matches.” You teased, the three of you laughing at Ona’s indignant squawk, yet she made no move to get down. Fara offered you a microphone, watching on as you looked around a little – struggling to figure out how you were going to do the interview with Ona on your back. Ona solved that solution easily enough, taking the mic and holding it where you need it. You squeezed her calf appreciatively.

“What a match, hey? How are you feeling?”

“Yeh, it’s insane. Derby’s are always hard, and we knew it was going be a fight today, but that was something else.” You chuckled, blowing a stray piece of hair from your face – thanking Ona absentmindedly as she delicately moved it away for you. “We all knew we had jobs to do out there and we just went ahead and did it. Not much more I can say really. I have absolute faith in these girls, and I think it showed today.” You hoped it was a reasonable response. You weren’t the biggest fan of the media side of football. Pre-recorded videos and challenges you could do no issue, but the live stuff - you hated it.

“And what about you, Ona? You were up and down that pitch today like a Yo-Yo.” Fara asked. You moved your head to the side, allowing Ona the space to talk.

“Sí. Again, I just did my job. It was this one that was putting them into the back of the net.” You blushed ferociously, thanking the lucky stars that you were already quite red from the match.

You continued the interview as quickly as possible – conscious that this was being streamed live to the BBC. You skin becoming redder with every passing compliment Ona threw you way. Of course, you gave them back just as often, but she wasn’t as embarrassed by stuff like that. Eventually, the interview came to a natural end.

“Thank you so much, girls, I’ll let you get back. Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” you heard Alex say as you turned away. You heard Ona groan in your ear as you carried on walking.

“Come on then, Señorita Badger.” You couldn’t contain your cackle as you helped her down to sit in your cubby.

“Detener,” she whined – her arms coming to cross over her chest. “They can never say it properly. It’s so annoying.” She moaned, burying her face in your clothed stomach as you moved to untie her braid.

“My love, they are atrocious at pronouncing non-English names, you know this.” You soothed her, allowing your fingers to card through her now-loose hair. “It doesn’t make it right, but it’s not personal.”

“It’s every game though. Every interview and time someone says my name its always ‘Battle’ or ‘Badger’. I can’t decide which is worse.” She complained, moving away from your body to look at you, pouting. You matched her pout; one had coming to cup her jaw and the other to lightly trace over the crease in between her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, my lovely. I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel any better, they’re always saying good things.” You tried a weak smile. “You’re our best defender.” You said honestly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This time, she really did blush.

“Deja de mentir,” she sighed.

“I’m not lying. You are an incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly talented defender.” You laughed as her cheeks darkened yet again. “And all mine.” You finished off, placing a gentle kiss to her soft lips. “I love you.” You basked in the silence between you to a little longer before adding, “my little Badger.” Her eyes snapped open, scoffing as her mouth dropping open as you laughed loudly, scurrying away to the showers before she could retaliate.

You had been calling her Badger for so long now, that you had never considered what it might look like to others, or to her. After that day in the locker room, it had slowly become more and more integrated into your daily vocabulary. It started as a nickname you used to tease her, loving how riled up she became. But then you started using it in training, shouting it out when she did something particularly impressive. Eventually, it became like any other loving nickname. You were her mi amor, and she was your Badger.

It was something you hadn’t considered when you both made the move over to Spain. It was so normal at this point. Surely, she would have said something if she didn’t like the name? You used it all the time. You wanted her to pass you the salt and pepper? You felt sad and needed a hug? She was injured and needed comfort? You were pressed up against her in the Club dancing the night away? She had done something great in training? She was irritating the crap out of you? You were annoying her and being an all-round brat? She was always Badger.

It had never crossed you mind until Alexia brought it up after training one day.

You were walking out to the car, Ona tugging on your hand to hurry you up.

“Vamos, mi amor. Apresúrate,” she pulled you harder, taking your hand in both of hers.

“Badger, you go ahead.” You laughed as she pouted. “You’re the one going on a ‘La Masia day’. In case you’ve forgotten, I wasn’t raised here.” You teased, using your strength to pulled her back to your side. “I was told in no uncertain terms by Aita that this was a Catalan only event And that she loved me, but I needed to get lost for the afternoon. You need time with your people, and I am totally ok with that, Badger.” You smiled softly at her, melting as her arms wove around your waist.

“Ona, deixa d'estar tan enamorat i afanya't.” Aitana’s loud voice drifted from across the car park.

“A la merda, Aita. Que no tinguis núvia no vol dir que hagis de ser dolent.” Ona responded. You had no idea what she was saying but even with your limited Catalan, you recognised ‘núvia’ and guessed it was something to do with you.

“Go on, Badger. Go enjoy yourself, I’ll see you at home.” You cupped her cheek with your hand, giving her a gentle goodbye kiss. She squeezed you once more before running off after Aitana– shoving her as she climbed into the backseat.

“Do you want to come for a quick coffee with us?” A voice next to you made you jump.

“Fucking hell.” You turned to see Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid standing behind you. “Jesus, warn a girl next time.” You placed a hand over your heart and took calming breaths, glaring at Mapi as she chuckled at your reaction.

“We said your name like 10 times, chica.” Alexia smiled, taking your arm, and pulling you towards her car.

“Sorry, I was just … sorry.” You stared at the pavement, a bright blush rushing to your cheeks.

“Ella está enamorada” Mapi cheered, coming up to pinch your cheeks.

“You two are way worse,” you said, gesturing between Ingrid and Mapi. “Oh, mi vida, jugaste muy bien hoy.” You dramatically threw yourself at Ingrid, laughing with her at Mapi’s incensed expression.

“No sueno asi”

“Yes, you do.” You said at the same time as Ingrid. Mapi’s shocked face made you laugh even harder as Alexia unlocked the car.

“Maps, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. Even when you aren’t talking to her it’s always ‘mi vida’ or ‘mi princessa’ or ‘mi Tesoro’. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. It can be quite nauseating.” You goaded her as you took your seat in the passenger side. She gasped, jokingly offended.

“Al menos no llamo a mi novia por un animalito raro.” She clicked her teeth at you.

You eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Animal? You didn’t call Ona an animal, did you? Sometimes you joked she was a koala after the matches as she clambered her way into a customary piggyback – you often made teasing remarks that you didn’t need to see one during your time in Australia because you had one at home with you. But nothing repeatedly.

“Yeh, where did Badger come from?” Alexia asked. Ohhhhh. It clicked for you - sometimes, you could be quite oblivious.

“It’s not after the animal. English commentators and interviewers can never say her name. You must’ve realised that.” The Spanish girls nodded solemnly – often being a victim themselves of mispronounced names. “Well, it started off as a joke really, Alex Scott called her Ona Badger once and it kinda went from there really.” You explained, your attention drifting to looking outside the window

“Ona’s a better woman than me.” Alexia shook her head slightly. You turned back around, looking at her side profile as she drove you towards the coffee shop.

“How-What do you mean?” You asked, confused as to what she was getting at.

“If Olga called me Patella instead of Putellas, I’d go crazy.” Alexia laughed.

“Oh. She doesn’t seem to mind it. I … don’t think?” Did she mind it? She had never said anything to you about it.

“I never said anything when Olga called me Lex for a while. But it really got on my nerves.” She added, making you feel even worse about the situation. Does she really feel like that? Do you irritate her? It must do. What you had thought was just a joke and then an eventual nickname was based on the fact that someone couldn’t pronounce her name right. That would annoy anyone, right?

The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze, the coffee trip and drive back to the training ground carpark was all a blur. Your drive home and daily routine done on autopilot as your actions and behaviours played on repeat in your head. Did Ona hate being called Badger? She must do, right? Not many people in England had struggled to pronounce your name, and you had yet to encounter someone in Spain that couldn’t do it. Your thoughts rattled in your head – leading you to the conclusion that yes, Ona must not like being called Badger. You vowed to stop making her uncomfortable.

“Hola, mi amor.” Ona called as she walked through the door. You could hear the tiredness in her voice.

“Hey, Badg-baby.” You cleared your throat, hoping to cover up your mistake. “Hey, baby.” You kicked yourself mentally for your slip up. With all your internal worry, you missed Ona’s eyebrows scrunching in confusion. You seemed ok in yourself, a little distracted maybe, but nothing noticeable. You were standing at the open fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner – so it must be that, Ona decided. You must be distracted by what to make. She came up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your shoulder. You melted against her, like you always did. This helped calm Ona’s worries a little, beyond not calling her Badger, you were acting normal.

“What do you fancy for tea?” You asked, looking back at her.

“No m'importa, el que sigui més fàcil per a tu,” she said in Catalan. Her voice muffled by the fabric of your jumper.

“What was that, Bad-babe?” You asked her gently, recognising how tired she must be. You twisted around in her grip, closing the fridge door behind you. She looked up at you, a look of displeasure on her face. You chalked it up to her being tired from her afternoon out with the girls; she was actually annoyed that you had, once again, not called her badger.

“El que sigui més fàcil.” She repeated, still speaking in Catalan.

“The only word I recognised was fàcil, so I’m going to assume that mean quick and easy?” She smiled, as you let a finger trace over her freckles on her cheeks, something you always did when she was tired.

“Podríem fer la comanda?” She was still speaking in Catalan. Her tiredness often led to you trying to decipher Catalan – a language you were still trying to get to grips with. But you understood where she was coming from. If you were tired and then forced to speak your third language in your own home, it would not go very well. You really wracked your brains, trying to work out what she was saying.

“I’m sorry, B-honey. What was that?” You asked her, scanning your eyes cross her face.

“Order.” She said grumpily. You sighed, misunderstanding her mood again.

“Ok, my love,” mentally cheering as you didn’t slip up this time. “Let’s go to the sofa and we’ll order something.” You unwound her arms from your waist and pulled them over your shoulders, lifting her up as her legs wrapped securely around your hips. “My koala,” you teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she buried her head in your neck.

You hoped that Ona’s uncharacteristic mood was purely down to her tiredness. But after a full night’s sleep where she had refused to leave your arms – something that usually made her sleep like a baby – she still had an attitude with you. She had been fine when you woke up, a soft, sleep-filled smile gracing her beautiful face.

“Bon dia, mi amor.” She had croaked out, a gentle hum coming from her as you scratched at her head.

“Good morning, bad-baby.” Fuck, you had done it again. She pulled back from her beloved location (her face pressed against your neck, you giving her gentle scratches to gradually wake her up). With sleep still in her eyes, her hair a mess and that adorable pout, you couldn’t help but smile – you had, yet again, misattributed her pout for tiredness rather than the anger, and slight hurt, that she felt when you failed to call her Badger. She tried to think back to yesterday. You had very willingly let her go out with the girls yesterday after training, so that couldn’t have been it. Training had gone really well – you always had worked brilliantly as a pair. You had mentioned that you went out to coffee with Alexia, Ingrid and Mapi, maybe something had happened then? But you would have said something though, right? You were the one that was more open and in-touch with your feelings. You always communicated well with everyone around you, especially Ona. Yet, you were refusing to call her Badger. That name had originally been a joke, but eventually it had come to mean so much to her – it was something so unique to your relationship. Other couples could call each other baby, or love, or honey, or babe, or any of the Spanish equivalents. But only she got to be your Badger.

You were still behaving normally which is what threw her off the most. You made her the perfect cup of coffee – like every morning – giving it to her with a kiss to the top of her head as she sat at the table, trying to wake herself up. You held your hand out to her as you walked into the training centre, allowing her warm hand to intertwine with yours. You insisted she tie your hair back, humming quietly as she raked her delicate fingers across your scalp. You made her a plate of all her favourite foods at lunch. You let her rest her body into yours as you sat down, your arm coming around her shoulder as you talked to Lucy and Keira. You drove home with you hand on her thigh and the music blasting loudly. Yet you still hadn’t called her Badger. It was adding considerably to her strange mood – she wasn’t quite angry, but she wasn’t her usual bubbly self … grumpy … that was the only way to describe Ona today. Even Alexia and Patri had picked up on it, asking you if Ona was alright. You tried your best to assure them, telling them that she just hadn’t slept very well (a total lie – it was you that had lied awake staring at the ceiling as Ona’s breath puffed steadily onto your collarbone).

She led you into your house, scowling at you as you tried to make your way into the kitchen.

“Sentarse,” she growled at you, pointing at the sofa. You did as you were told – still very confused as to her behaviour today.

You looked at her, deeply puzzled, as she climbed onto your lap, her legs straddling your thighs. Her behaviour was not what you expected of someone that was angry with you. You pulled out every stop you could think of to help her relax; one hand on her waist, dipping under her shirt to rub at the smooth skin; the other came to cup her jaw, you thumb running repetitive strokes across her cheekbones. It worked, for the most part. She leaned into your hand, her breathing was less harsh, the crinkle in her brow disappeared.

“Oni, my darling girl, mi corazón, mi hermosa, el amor de mi vida. What is up with you today?”

“What is up with me? What is up with you?” She almost shouted, incredulous at the accusation that she had done something wrong.

“You’ve had a scowl on your face the whole day.” You explained, a finger coming to flick at her protruding bottom lip as exhibit A.

“Because of you!” You threw her arms up in exacerbation.

“Me? What have I done?” You tried to think of what you could have done to annoy her. You had stopped calling her Badger, you had let her choose what to eat for tea last night – not even complaining when she chose the place with the not-as-nice-but-just-as-expensive-Sushi – you had done everything as normal today, going so far to drag her away for a steamy makeout session in the bathrooms before practice. Was that what she was upset over?

“No m'has trucat, Badger” she whispered so quietly you could barely hear her.

“Oni, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you.” You explained “What did you say?”

“You haven’t called me Badger all day. And last night. Did I do something? Have I annoyed you? You always call me Badger unless you’re angry at me. So ... What. Did. I. Do?�� She exploded at you, a lone tear streaking down her cheeks. She rushed to wipe it away, but you got there first, kissing her cheek at the same time.

“No, mi vida. You did nothing wrong.” You looked down at her hands in her lap, fingers fiddling nervously together.

“Then what is it? Cos you haven’t called me Badger in over 24 hours now. Something is wrong.” She implored at you.

“I know you don’t like it, so I thought it would just be easier if you didn’t have to tell me and it be all awkward.” She waited a moment, hoping you would meet her eyes. When that was apparently not going to happen, she lifted your chin up with a finger.

“Who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked sternly. Just like the rest of the day, you misunderstood her emotions – thinking she was angry at you for figuring out her secret.

“N-no one.” You croaked out, trying desperately not to cry.

“Mi amor, who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked again, this time her voice a lot calmer.

“It was something that Alexia had said yesterday. She said that Olga called her Lex a few times and it really got on her nerves, but it took her a while for her to say something. And she also said that if someone called her Patella as a nickname, she’d go insane. And it just got me thinking that what if you don’t like being called Badger, ‘cos it’s a nickname based on someone saying your name wrong, but you didn’t want to say anything and I-” you were cut off by soft lips pressing against yours. You hummed throatily as Ona’s hands twisted into your hair, you grip on her waist tightening, pulling her closer to you.

“Don’t think ever again.” She said as you parted, her breath fanning across your face, drowning you in her scent. You must have looked confused, even with your eyes shut. “You said all of this was because you starting thinking. So, don’t ever think again.” You chuckled, pulling her back to you, your lips moulding together perfectly. “You are mi amor. And I am your Badger,” she mumbled between kisses.

“My Badger.” You agreed, shifting yourself underneath her.

“Recuérdame mañana que mate a Alexia por plantar esa estúpida idea en tu cabeza.” She grumbled as you pulled on top of you again.

“Whatever you say,” you started to suck a hicky into her neck. You pulled back slightly so you could see her face. “Badger.” Her kilowatt smile was all the confirmation you needed that Ona really did like being called Badger.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[clawsdevour]

victory reward

wc: 2.1k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, ushijima x reader, smut, hinting towards a sex marathon, mention of semen retention, size kink, cream pie, not proofread

び˚ˎ 。

The final sound of the spike that your husband, Ushijima Wakatoshi, landed on the volleyball court secured the win for Japan in the Paris Olympics volleyball game. The cheering after Japan’s winning still rang in your ears when you left to go backstage in order to meet with Ushijima when he step foot off the blazing court.

“Toshi!! Right here!” Screaming against all of the sounds that resonated in the crowded hallway to get his attention. His stone cold eyes meet yours and softened immediately when he made his way to your direction. The closer he stepped towards you, his warm welcoming arms opened for a big hug despite being drenched in sweat.

“Hey love, did you watch me play all day?” Falling into his strong arms that held you closer to him, a faint smile spreading on his lips as you nod into his chest. The crowds’ are walking around you two while you quickly chatted in place about the match that just finished.

Leaving the big and roaring venue, the cold air hits your face once you step foot outside. Your arm clings with his for warmth, walking alongside him trying to not get caught up with the other people who strolled by. You’re praising him for his skills and the last strike he landed on court that brought Japan to it’s next match in the Olympics. He’s smiling to himself, content with the victory and the fact he now knows that you came and watched him play the whole time.

“When we get back to our hotel, are you gonna reward me?” Ushijima peers down to see your awestruck face frozen in surprise due to his silly attempt at hinting you two to do something suggestive. Ushijima’s not the type to ask for intercourse often, you’d have to pounce on him and have a whole build up to get to the tip of it because of how stern and naive he could be. Not to mention, his busy schedule to keep his volleyball skills and physique in check.

“Haha, Toshi would you even take my reward if I gave it to you?” Giggling to play with him a bit, half serious. He’s putting back on his game face as his piercing eyes scream out a simple Yes which was all you needed to know. He was serious, he must’ve been waiting for a long time to be buried in you once more.

The moment you enter and close your hotel door was the moment where his big silhouette carried and dropped you onto the springy and plush king sized bed. Ushijima’s hands are placed by your ears, trapping you in position underneath his heavy and athletic frame.

Wrapping your hands around his head as he leaned into you to share an intimate kiss on the lips. He couldn’t wait and be patient any longer, his tongue pokes through to completely take over the inside of your mouth. Ushijima roughly dominates the kiss by massaging his tongue around yours while you continuously moaned into the heated gesture. At some point he had to pull away to let you both breathe a little. 

Your lips were barely touching while you breathed in each others warm air, a bit dizzy from that intoxicating kiss. His honest and dark olive eyes couldn’t keep off of your slightly swollen reddened lips as he went in for another one. Tracing the shape of your lips with the tip of his tongue, you watched through his long fluttering lashes. Sucking on your bottom lip, eager for your tongue to slip into his mouth as you felt his thick fingers caress the side of your face. 

“I’m so.. Hard right now, it hurts. I haven’t let it out in so long.” Ushijima’s hot and raspy voice whispered in your ear. Tilting your head to meet his vulnerable face, his hand reaches for yours so he could lead you to feel what’s in between his tight shorts. Wow, his bulge was real big and stiff. You haven’t fucked with your husband in a month or two due to his intensive training schedule. Of course, he hasn’t let out any of his steam while being so caught up practicing to play for the Olympics. 

“You could let it all out in me Toshi,” bringing his hand down your waistband to feel the wetness at the bottom of your underwear. His eyes slightly widened at the dampness. Ushijima brings his lips down to your neck to plant a sloppy kiss as his fingers rubbed along your clothed slit.

“I love you.” Ushijima shuffles up on his knees to take off his suffocating shirt that clung to him for dear life to reveal his rippling and muscular figure. Your fingers reached to linger across his sculpted torso trying to reel him in as he leaned back down towards you, placing hands on his broad shoulders.

“I love you too..” Your lustful eyes watched as he makes his way up your shirt, essentially pushing up your bra to reveal your stiff and perky nipples due to being released from their cage. Ushijima’s warm tongue caressing your tit causes you to push your head back into the soft pillow, the more he sucked and licked across your sensitive nip the more your head sank down. His other hand fondled with your unoccupied breast, teasing and playing with it as his eyes remained focused on your reactions. 

Shortly after, his hands bring themselves down towards your hips, gradually bringing his swollen lips down with it. Ushijima’s working down your pants and underwear. You sit up to help him, also taking off your shirt and bra as you sat naked in front of him, with a slightly red hue flushed across your face. 

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe my job kept me away from you for so long, I’m sorry..” Ushijima’s parting your legs open like the red sea as you tried to resist out of humiliation. Of course, losing to his powerful and sturdy hands that kept you apart. His dark olive orbs lit up seeing your cunt already wet with your slick from all the kissing and slight nipple play.

Ushijima dives in with his tongue that draws steady circles over your little bundle of nerves, causing you to let out a whimper of shock. The foreign sensation of his tongue on your clit felt so good, your locked legs squirmed despite his grasp on the back of your thighs. The skin like dough seeping out of his hands while he holds you up. Your mouth parting and opening as your moans grew louder, whenever you call out his name in that lewd state he doesn’t hold back. Your hands were buried into his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. He’s adding in a thick finger or two inside to curl into your sweet spot to help prep you for his cock. He knows he’s gonna have to use more than two fingers, so he snuck in another one to stretch you out. Your legs are twitching like crazy as you squirmed and forced his head closer. His tongue swirls around in your plush hole once more, driving you to your spinning orgasm as he slurps up all of your remaining juices before his finishing course. 

He unlatches his mouth from your dripping cunt as you lay limpless trying to regain your composure, watching him slide his shorts and boxers down to reveal his massive raging erection that dripped with precum. Your arms help you up as you saw him stroke it a few times as he grunted before laying it on your pussy.

“Toshi, is it gonna fit..?” You’re looking at him with a bit of fear in your eyes at his big and girthy length that’s currently sitting on your clit. He’s guiding his mad red tip to glide around on your slit, collecting the juices you secretated.

“I’ll make it fit.” Ushijima’s determined and believes it’ll all fit in like always even though you’re always a bit worried. Everytime you fuck it ends up like this, but he’s always somehow balls deep inside your plush walls that clung onto him. You knew that and always trusted him during the whole process of just putting it in. You’re laying down flat on your back as he’s towering over you once again. Feeling his tip find and prob at the entrance of your hole, Ushijima’s looking for your approval as you nod at him to stick it in.

There goes the first part, your entrance expands to take in his circumference. He’s slowly pushing it in, trying to not cause any more discomfort than his cock is already putting you in. the pain from stretching you out starts to kick in when you feel the stabbing sensation. Your deathenly grip on his shoulders increases, causing crescent marks to appear on his smooth skin whenever you had to readjust your hand placement. 

“You okay? It’s just about in.” Ushijima’s grunting from the tight heated walls that held his cock, making it feel like it’s about to snap in half at any given moment. The waves of the killer stinging sensation began to increase when he started to slide out. It was like a metal fork scratching a chalkboard inside. Shoving it back was even more painful even though it was slightly starting to mix with pleasure that’ll soon start to wash over and fill your body. 

Your body’s producing tears as a natural reaction towards the affliction, your loving husband’s wiping them off your face with his thumb while peppering you kisses all over. The slow but earth shattering damage that his cock implies on your clenching walls continued its attempt at stimulating you. Throwing your arms over his head, bringing him closer to your tearstained eyes. Your cunt takes the form of his size the more he moved in and out of you, loosening your grip on his cock.

“It feels good Toshi, you can go faster..” sobbing in between whines as waves of pleasure started to take over your body. Nodding his head as he grunted, his pace began to increase from a turtle’s pace to making you arch your back as you held onto him with all your might. His eyes averted to your breasts enjoying each bounce as he started to thrust even more. 

The amount of inaudible sounds coming from your mouth and the squelching from below, he can’t take it anymore it’s been far too long. Ushijima’s uneven breathing came to a pause whenever your gummy walls clenched, eventually he came inside. Filling you to the brim even when he thought he emptied his load in you. Taking it out, his white goo continued to spray onto your breasts and stomach as some of it started to drip out of your cunt.

“Shit, there’s so much ha.” He’s trying to jerk it all out before taking on another round with you. When he thought he was done, it just started to leak out from his tip. Biting his lip as he continues to finish, before putting your legs up into a mating press. 

Your knees pressed against the sticky semen on your chest as he’s pushing your ankles further down, exposing all of your pussy to him. You’re dripping with his cum that keeps trailing out of your cunt. Feeling his girth press against you again, he’s scooping his creamy white substance onto his cock before smoothly attempting to slide back in with a moan of relief. 

Your head tilts back from all the stimulation as you’re grabbing onto the sheets. His cock is able to plummet and destroy your insides even more with his position that made your body more sensitive with how much deeper he can reach. All you can do is let out your loud continuous moans and praises as you take all of his length again and again. His unbreakable stamina turns your head into a groggy mess as you try to keep conscious throughout his heavy, hard poundings. Ushijima notices your change in reaction when as you try to keep up with his momentum and came to a complete stop.

“Hey, you okay? Do you need to take a break or drink some water?” Your eyes focus on him from between your legs. His words melt into your ears now that the sounds of flesh on flesh came to a halt. All you could hear was the heavy breathing ringing in your ears.

You shake your head ‘No,’ knowing you’ll have to at some point. All you could think about what how it’s gonna be a long night to celebrate. 

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