#you can’t separate light from darkness

[kyluff]

— ↺ ‘When He Eat The Cookie He Got Good Form’

✎ luffy + zoro + sanji x reader !

✦ summary ➠ one piece men eating you out blurbs

✦ warnings ➠ nsfw, cunnilingus, swearing, almost getting caught

✦ note ➠ 3000+ LIKES ON MY CLINGY GOJO POST?!? thats actually insane, I’m so happy thank you for all the support 😨🫶

✪ Monkey D. Luffy

— You felt shaking, hands were on you and vigorously pushing and pulling you. Your eyes weren’t open yet, they couldn’t, you were just sleeping a few seconds ago and now you were being rudely awaken. Keeping your eyes closed, you called out for your boyfriend.

“What, what is it Luffy?” You sighed, shoving your face further in the blanket, trying to go back to the time when you were still sound asleep. “It’s still nighttime, go back to bed.”

He whined out, nuzzling his face in your neck. “But I’m hungry.”

Of course he is, you shook your head in annoyance. “That’s what you woke me up for? Wait and eat in the morning like the rest of us.”

Luffy licked your cheek, leaving heavy and warm breaths on it. He always was so impatient when he wanted something, especially when hunger was what he wanted. “But I cant.”

You were shocked, you really shouldn’t be though, he was obsessed with food to point where it was slightly unhealthy. You forcefully shoved his face away from you, making him fall on his side of the bed. “Well too bad, now go to sleep.”

“I can’t, not when I’m so hungry.” He huffed out, sounding defeated by his own words, at least it seemed like he was done with this stunt. But you felt bad a little bit, if he was so hungry that he couldn’t even sleep, then that’s an issue.

“If you’re really that hungry go to the kitchen.” That was the final thing you were going to say, now you were for real going to sleep.

You felt him shuffling beside you and the bed swaying from his movement. It melt like he was moving down the bed, making it to the foot of it. You ignored him, just wanting this to be over.

He disappeared under to covers for a minute, lifting your leg and placing himself between them. “Why would I go to the kitchen? My foods already right here.”

For the first time that night your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the environment. You reached in the dark for the light, turning it on and removing the cloth that separated the two of you, bLuffy was there, resting his cheek on your thigh. He had a lazy and goofy smile on his face like he always did, but his eyes were different. His eyes stared into your soul, hunger definitely evident in his gaze.

“Oh,” That’s all you could say, you had just been waken and had to face this. “You’re that type of hungry.”

The man between your limbs nodded eagerly, relieved that you had finally understood him. He had awoken in the middle of the night and the feeling washed over him, he couldn’t sleep after that, he needed you.

“Well, eat then.” That’s all it took for him rip off your shorts and underwear, revealing you to him. You could never deny your boyfriend, even if it was so late, not when he looked so longingly up at you.

He delve in instantly, not being able to wait any longer. His mouth was wide open against your folds, sucking and nudging them how ever he wished. Luffy didn’t focus on anywhere in particular when he ate you out, he liked to pay attention to every part of you down there, making it a messy operation, your juices spread across his face and everywhere on your thighs.

“Oh-h, so good.” This session Luffy seemed to really want it, he was licking so aggressively and tugged harshly at your lips. You weren’t complaining, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

It wasn’t till he placed a bite on your clit that you felt the beginnings of your end. He’s never done this before, but the new found trick brought you dangerously close to your climax.

“Do it again!” You pleaded, wanting to feel that same sensation from before. And he listened, using his canine to squish your bud, he lapped at the same spot to soothe it. You came undone, Luffy crawled up your body and dropped onto your chest, you noticed he had a soft grin on his face.

“You really were hungry, huh?” Your fingers started playing and twirling mindlessly with his hair.

“Mhm.” He hummed, closing his eyes from the comfort he received at the mercy of your hands. You too shut your eyes, being able to sleep again.

✪ Roronoa Zoro

— If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend, it was how much he liked eating pussy. He’d eat it from the back, he’d eat it in sixty nine, he’d eat in the shower. He would literally do it anywhere at anytime. A position he hadn’t tried though was you sitting on his face.

So right now, he decided that you were going to sit on his face, but you were having some difficulty with that. You hovered over his awaiting mouth, using the headboard of the bed to hold yourself up.

“Sit on my face already.” He wrapped his buff arms around your thighs, attempting to pull you down on his face.

“Z-Zoro, don’t you think I’ll be to heavy?” You quivered, not letting him win the tug of war you were having.

“Don’t care,” The greened haired man loosened his grip, letting you raise slightly. “Just want to taste you.”

You bit your lip, thinking about how desperate his expression looked, you could tell he really wanted this and who were you to deny? You reluctantly lowered yourself closer to his face, making sure not to have your whole weight on him.

His lips chased yours, coming up to meet your dripping core where it was above him. He slowly made out with it, messily sucking and slurping. He quickly shook his face in your heat, spreading the juices he has created.

“Fucking come here.” His words were muffled against your skin as he forced you to fully sit down on his face. Your cheeked flushed in embarrassment, worrying if you were to much for your boyfriend to bare. You tried to get off, but the strong arms on your legs kept you in place.

“Zoro!” You whimpered, grasp tightening on the wooden frame.

He only carried on, now comfortable with the position you were in, nice and snug to his face. His tongue worked quick and tight circles on your bud, not stopping until he heard a moan rip from your vocal cords.

You glanced down on him through your droopy eyes, he was also looking up at you. His eyes always stood out to you, they were always stern and fierce, staring right through you.

He kept eye contact with you as he face moved deeper into you, his nose becoming smaller in size. Your stomach did flips in response, contracting as you felt tingling down there.

He smiled into you, he could see how much you liked sitting on his face, and to think on how you were so against it before.

His grin became bigger as he noticed how close you were, this might be the quickest he’s ever made you come.

Picking up his pace, he pushed you over the edge until you came undone onto his smushed face. “How do you like the new position now?”

✪ Vinsmoke Sanji

— You were becoming very annoyed at your boyfriends current antics, he’s been at it for what it felt like hours now. You sat on a chair in the kitchen, attempting to enjoy the beautiful meal that Sanji had prepared for you. That task was almost impossible though, due to the man that was positioned at your feet in front your chair.

“For the tenth time, Sanji, the answer is no.” You huffed out, stabbing another piece of food with your fork.

“Please, Y/n! Just one taste!” He begged, smushing his blushing face against your exposed knee. You had decided to wear a skirt today as it was very warm outside, it seemed to have an affect on the blonde man.

“I’m trying to eat, can’t you wait until I’m at least finished?” You wiggled your leg, trying to shake the man attached to your knee off of you.

His grasp became harder, slowing your movements until they stopped totally. His face moved closer, it reached the hem of your skirt where he brought his fingers to fidget with it softly. “I can’t wait, need it right now.”

Normally you wouldn’t put up such a fuss, but you were in the kitchen, anyone could walk in whenever they wanted. “Sanji, what if someone came in? Like if Luffy got hungry and ran in, what then?”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He started laying quick kisses on your thighs, his eyes still looked at you from below waiting for your response.

You thought about it for a moment, sighing in defeat. “You promise?” He nodded eagerly, eyes filled with lust as he glanced up at you. You nodded your head in agreement, once you gave him the go ahead he immediately flipped your skirt and dived straight in, head disappearing under the flowy material.

At first he kissed you through the cloth that separated him from your bare pussy, his breath was warm when it fanned onto you. He pulled your underwear off, revealing everything to him.

For some reason unknown to you as you couldn’t see Sanji because of your bottoms he paused in his tracks, not going further.

“You said you’d be fast, get on with it and eat me out already.” You gave him time to resume his prior actions but when he refused and stayed in his place, you threw the skirt up off his head. “What are yo-”

“Just admiring my pretty girl.” Anyone would assume that he was referring to you, but you knew what he was talking about and it wasn’t your face. It was your cunt.

“Shut up.” You forced his face into your core, you couldn’t look at him any longer, just thinking about his words made a wave of heat form in your lower stomach.

Your boyfriend didn’t protest, starting to lick long strips up your slit, sucking on your bud when he reached it at the end. He repeatedly did this until he felt your juices slipping everywhere, now your hole was ready for his tongue. He slipped it inside, letting it slowly slide in to its full length.

You whimpered in response, hands flying to his yellow hair. “Keep going.”

He listened to your pleads, swirling his muscle around in circles before pulling out and searching upwards for your buzzing clit. You felt his lips wrap around it, applying suction on it, during all of this the tip of his tongue poked through his lips and flicked at your bud.

“So close, Sanji!” Your legs enclosed on his torso, trapping him. His actions became faster, suction harder and flicking harsher. It was all too much for your aching cunt, your climax was nearing.

Just as you were about to let go, you heard a voice coming from outside the door. “Sanji! I’m hungry when it food going to be ready!?”

“Have some patience Luffy, you pig!” He pulled away to yell at the pirate captain, stuffing his face back in like nothing had happened.

“Sanj-ji he’s going to walk in here!” You felt tears sting your eyes at the stressful situation that had a chance to occur, but the tears were also present in your eyes due to the fact that the feeling from before was back again.

The cook didn’t respond, eating you out the same as before the interruption. You panted, pawing at his locks as you came on Sanjis mouth.

He quickly licked it all up, placing your panties back on and flattened out your skirt to normal just in time before the energetic black haired boy came barreling through the kitchen doors.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jace and betrothed unable to wait until their wedding night to have sex??

Request: Jacaerys and his future wife fooling around because they are horny and scared they will die before getting married. I don’t want my boy to die without tasting the greatness of sex

How did this smut piece get to 2.2k words? 😳

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbating, fingering, p + v, 

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I’m scared, Jace,’’ you confessed as you stood by the banister of Dragonstone castle, watching as Vermax and Silverwing flew together over the bay. Hopefully Silverwing will lay eggs when you and Jacaerys have children. ‘’The war is getting closer to us. Soon, we’ll have to get on our dragons and battle against the enemy. We…we might die.’’

Death was inevitable during a war. Especially one with dragons, as Rhaenys once said. Team Black had already suffered a couple of losses — Lucerys, Rhaenys, Ser Erryk —, but more would come. 

‘’The thought of what’s coming is terrifying, but we can’t let ourself be paralyzed by the possibility of dying,’’ Jacaerys said, his hand securely on the handle of his sword. He had taken the habit from Daemon, whom he looked up to in certain aspects. 

You looked down at your bare hands on the top of the banister. ‘’I’m not scared of death, I’m scared of dying without ever calling you husband.’’ 

A few weeks before the petition of Driftmark, you and Jacaerys had announced your betrothal. Rhaenyra had a feast in celebration, proud and happy that her eldest son would marry without any politics involved. The wedding should have happened in the summer, but the King fell to his illness and from there unraveled a series of unfortunate events that postponed the wedding.  

‘’When the war ends and I sit on my throne, we’ll have a large celebration in the Red Keep,’’ the Queen had promised.

But you were tired of waiting. 

‘’Every night, as I lay in bed, I think of you and our life if there hadn’t been a war of succession. I would call you husband, my prince husband, and we would not be sleeping in separate beds across the castle. No one would be chaperoning us from afar and we would not get scolded for sharing ‘too long’ kisses.’’

Jacaerys put his hand over yours on the bannister, sharing the same feelings. He wanted to call you his wife and glare at whoever dared speaking wrong to you. He wanted to spend the evening alone in your shared chambers, eating cakes and talking about your day until one of you fell asleep first. He wanted…he wanted to take you to his bed and have a family with you. Not whilst the war was going. He could not deal with the stress of his pregnant wife going to battle on her dragon. 

A few days later, you were sitting in your settee, reading in your nightgown when you heard a light knock on the door. You raised your head from your book, and saw that a piece of parchment had been slipped beneath your door.  

Meet me when the moon is bright. Careful when you take the stairs, Ser Godric is keeping guard.

The message was not signed, but you recognized the handwriting. 

When you judged the moon was bright enough, you slipped a robe over your nightgown and quietly walked down the corridor to take the stairs to Jacaerys’ chambers. You listened carefully for any guards, not wishing to get caught sneaking to you betrothed’s chambers at the hour of the owl. It would make quite the scandal amongst the servants and the staff. 

You knocked delicately on the door and bit your lip as you waited, your stomach bubbling with excitement. Within a few seconds, the door opened and Jacaerys pulled you inside. 

The room was quite dark as the sun was asleep, only the fire of the hearth and a few candles on a table as sources of light. You noticed the small crumpled balls of parchment on the study, assumingly drafts of his message to you. It had to be not too suggestive, but also not too plain that you would not want to come.

‘’I didn't know if you were going to come,’’ Jacaerys said, his lips curved into a shy smile. 

He was wearing just a tunic and wool trousers. It felt strange to see him without his doublet and riding gear. His dark brown hair was messy and his cheeks flushed from what you could make from the light. He looked so different from the usual picture-perfect prince. 

‘’You asked to see me.’’ 

Jacaerys stepped closer. He raised his hand to stroke your cheek, then your hair, which he seemed taken by. ‘’I didn’t know your hair was so long. You always have them up in braids or pins,’’ he said, his tone soft with wonder.

A slight smile tugged at your lips. ‘’What is it that you wanted, Jace? I doubt you summoned me her to talk about my hair.’’ 

‘’I’ve been thinking. About us.’’ He paused for a moment, looking into your eyes. ‘’The Gods have been unfair to us. So let’s not wait for them to bless and unite us.’’

Your brows drew into a light frown. ‘’Jace, what do you—’’ you began, but he stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours. 

He stepped closer, the fire in the hearth reflecting in his eyes. ‘’Do you love me?’’ 

‘’With all my heart,’’ you replied without hesitation, your eyes filled with sincerity. 

‘’Let’s not wait, then. I…I don’t want to waste our time together waiting for this damn war to be over to take you to bed.’’ 

Jacaerys placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him, his grip loose, giving you time to pull from his grasp if you wanted it. But you didn't. 

Instead, you looked up at him and kissed him, closing the remaining space between you. You kissed him like you've done many times before, only this time you didn't have to pull away every twenty seconds to check if a maester, guard or the Queen was around. You’ll never forget the embarrassment you felt that day…

Jacaerys whimpered as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, and pressed you against him, desire spreading through his veins, hot like dragonfire. With less layers between your bodies, you could feel the warmth of his chest through your nightgown, and his...little friend stiffening in his trousers.

‘’Someone is excited,’’ you murmured with a giggle as you broke the kiss to plant a trail of kisses down his neck instead. 

He let out a low moan, tightening his grip on your hips. ‘’I cannot control it when you’re around. Especially when you kiss me.’’ Jacaerys captured your lips into another kiss, and tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower stomach. 

His hands grabbed and pulled at the material of your robe and nightgown, and you rolled your hips, igniting more of his dragonfire. Jacaerys moaned at the contact, louder than he intended. Your own cheeks turned red, realizing you were starting to reach an intimacy you had never breached before.

‘’I’m nervous,’’ you whispered, biting your lip as you thought of getting intimate. 

You placed your hands on Jacaerys’ chest, distracting yourself from your mind. His heart was beating fast, probably just as nervous. 

‘’We don't have to do anything if you don’t feel ready to.’’

You shushed him with a finger to his lips. ‘’I want to.’’ 

To prove yourself, you untied your robe and placed it on the back of the settee, right next to Jacaerys’ sword. The prince's breathing quickened, his dark eyes fixated on your fingers as you unlaced the ties of your nightgown, slowly unraveling the knot. You sucked in a breath as you pulled it down your shoulders, letting it slip down your body until it reached the floor.

Silence greeted your naked body, and you felt shy suddenly. You almost reached for your robe to cover yourself, but your betrothed sensed your uneasiness and stroked your cheek before taking off his tunic and trousers. He found it unfair for you to be naked while he was still clothed.

Once you were even, he guided you backwards towards his bed. The headboard had a large dragon engraved in the stone and seemed a little bigger than yours. The sheets were pale, and over top was a deep red blanket made of velvet to keep warm from the winds coming from the bay.

Jacaerys sat on the edge and, with an expression of fascination, he reached for your breasts. He made sure to be gentle, sliding his thumbs gently over your rapidly hardening nipples. ‘’By the Sevens, you’re beautiful,’’ he marveled, stars in his eyes. 

‘’I can say the same, my prince.’’ You pressed your palm over his chest, smooth and warm.

Jacaerys smiled, that one soft and genuine smile he reserved for you. ‘’I love you,’’ he said, his hands caressing your side in small, gentle circles. 

‘’I love you to— Aah,’’ you whimpered as his hand reached between your legs, stroking your slit clumsily. He didn't know what he was doing, and lacked finesse as he bumped against your clit at random moments, but it still felt amazing. 

He checked on you, wanting to please. ‘’Does that feel good?’’

‘’Yes.’’ 

His fingers were getting slippery from your arousal, making it easier to slide against your cunny. You’ve done it to yourself a few times, alone in your bed. 

‘’Can you put one inside?’’ 

Jacaerys’ fingers were a bit thicker than yours, and longer. 

He nodded. 

A breathy moan left your lips instantly, pleasure sparkling as your walls clenched around his middle finger. 

‘’Like that?’’ Jacaerys slid his finger out, then back in, repeating the motion as you grabbed his shoulder. 

‘’Yes. Again.’’ 

He listened to your needs, almost forgetting his own as his cock remained untouched against his stomach. It was engorged and painful. While one hand was busy pleasuring you, he wrapped his second around his cock and jerked himself. 

 You noticed and thought of helping him, but Jacaerys added a second finger and your knees almost gave out. The feeling was overwhelming, but you craved more. 

You pushed Jacaerys away, and clambered over his lap. His gaze met yours, equally filled with lust. With a nod from your lover, you reached down to grab his cock and lined it at your entrance, sinking down slowly, inch by inch. 

The intensity of the sensation had you gripping at each other, needing to anchor yourself to something. It was unpleasant at first, feeling a pressure and a stinging inside your intimate tunnel. You felt full in a way that was impossible to describe.

Feeling your fingers dig into his skin, Jacaerys kissed your shoulders and neck to sooth you, trying his hardest not to move by fear to blow too soon or hurt you. It was overwhelming for him too — the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him.

You rose up slightly, and then sank back on with tenderness. Jacaerys moaned deeply with you, his head dropping against your collarbone. He closed his eyes, his hands squeezing your hips as you moved up and down again, the pressure around his cock heavenly.  

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm, becoming one. 

When your legs fatigued, you let Jacaerys know and he moved you on the bed and laid you down on the rich velvet. He adjusted himself to the new position, his dark curls falling like curtains around his face as he thrusted into you with long deep strokes.

‘’Kiss me,’’ he demanded.

You complied, winding your arms around his neck and rocking your hips to meet his thrusts until you reached your high with a broken cry. 

Seconds later, Jacaerys pulled out and spilled onto your thighs, not wanting to deal with the consequences of having sex out of wedlock. 

The bed creaked as he collapsed beside you, breathing heavy. As if an invisible string was pulling you to him, you rolled on your side and clung to him, needing to be close after sex. You stayed that way for a long time, relaxing with your head on Jacaerys' bare chest. Your legs felt like jelly, still dizzy from the intense emotions and the overwhelming pleasure. 

You wished you could suspend time and stay there with him forever. But a soft yawn brought you back to reality.

‘’I must leave,’’ you said, feeling the tiredness catching you. It was difficult not to be lured to sleep when you were cuddling under the covers and Jacaerys’s hand was stroking your back gently.

His arms caged around you, protesting. ‘’Stay.’’ He nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled. ‘’It’s a command from your prince.’’ 

His tone was unserious, but it still made you guilty and sad to leave him. 

‘’I do not wish to leave and sleep in my bed alone, but I must be found in my own chamber when the maids come in the morn.’’ 

Jacaerys sighed, rubbing his face into your hair. ‘’I know,’’ he said, his voice a mixture of resignation and frustration. 

Reluctantly, his arms slowly unwound from around you and you peeled yourself from him, releasing a small hiss when you sat up. The septa had warned you about the pain after breaking your maidenhead. It wasn’t unbearable, only sensitive when you moved. 

‘’I didn't hurt you, didn't I?’’ Jacaerys immediately asked, his eyes filled with concern as he checked on you.

You shook your head and smiled, washing his guilt away. ‘’No. You were perfect, Jace.’’ 

He knew it was untrue. No one was perfect the first time. 

You struggled dressing back into your nightgown and robe, having to fight with Jacaerys’ lips trying to kiss you and his arms pulling you against him. You gave him a last longing kiss before slipping out of his chambers, promising to see him to break fast. 

—

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[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[imaginedisish]

Is It Casual Now? (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: So this one is a couple of requests rolled into one. I got some asks about dancing around feelings, and some others about a fight/make up sex...and this is what I came up with. This is (very obviously) inspired by "Casual" by the queen herself, Chappell Roan. (Gif is not mine--from a user called trashy on Pinterest). Enjoy!

Summary: I know baby nooo attachment, but we're...KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOU'RE EATING ME OUT IS IT CASUAL NOW?

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cockwarming, so much smut, feelings, friends w/benefits/secret affair to lovers, Logan is afraid to love but goddammit he loves you, angsty asf, cursing, happy ending :), fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 3,405 short...not...

Over the course of his very long life, some of Logan’s memories have shifted, melded together. Days become nights and nights become days, an inescapable cycle with an indeterminate end. But Logan remembers the day he met you vividly. You tripped him up; sucked him out of the monotony of what at times felt like a meaningless existence. You changed everything. 

The summer air was hot and stuffy. He was standing in the hallway with Jean, Scott, Rogue, and Kurt. The door opened, sunlight filling the dark foyer. And then there you were, stepping inside, with Charles and Storm flanking you. 

Your eyes found his immediately. “My X-Men, this is our new recruit,” Charles had said, introducing you to the team. But you were only focused on the man in the middle. The man with the leather jacket and the dark black hair. 

“Hi,” you said shyly with a wave of your hand, eyes still focused on Logan. The rest of the team excitedly introduced themselves, but you weren’t listening. 

Logan smiled. “Hi,” he said back. He was all you could see. 

And he still is. But you’re dancing around your feelings—the both of you. You allow yourselves to give in, but only under the cover of darkness. Only in bed. Late at night. When the rest of the team is fast asleep. It’s always quiet; rushed steps down the hallway and soft taps on doors. Tripping into the darkness of a room to find the bed. A mess of limbs tangled together, moon high in the sky, cold light trickling through the curtains. 

It’s the early hours of the morning, the dawn creeping in through your window. Logan’s arm is wrapped around you, his hand holding your breast. It’s so domestic, so intimate. But you know he’s going to leave—one of you always leaves. Lately, it hurts worse every time the bed goes cold. 

“I should go,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. He tugs you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He’s still hard, his erection brushing against the curve of your ass. You push back into him teasingly. 

“Stay,” you beg, your hips rocking against him. 

He kisses your neck. “Can’t. You know we can’t.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know how much more of this arrangement you can take. The leaving. The hiding. The secretiveness. “Why?” You ask, separating from him. You roll over onto your other side to face him. “Why can’t we?”

“We just can’t,” he grunts, pushing himself up and out from under the covers. He finds his clothes on the ground and starts to dress himself. You sit up too, tears suddenly brimming behind your eyes. 

You shake your head. “That’s not an answer, Lo.” 

“Please,” he says, tugging his beater across his chest. He leans over you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You have to understand.” 

You nod, but you don’t understand. He kisses you once more before stepping quietly towards the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, like part of him can’t take this either. Like he has to fight some demon deep inside him not to crawl back into bed and pull you close. You know him; you can see it in his face, in the way he stands.  

“See you later?” You ask, swallowing nervously. You need to hear him say it—need him to remind you that this isn’t over. You’re desperate for anything—desperate for him. 

Logan smiles. “Yeah,” he nods. “Come to my room tonight, okay?”

You fight back your tears, plastering a fake smile on your face. “Okay.”

And then he’s slipping out the door, softly shutting it behind him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night…

His sheets are soft under your back. His arm holds you down, latched tightly over your hip, keeping your lower half glued to the mattress. His face is buried deep in your cunt. He’s lapping at you hungrily, needily. 

“Thought about you all day,” he mumbles against you, the bassy vibration of his voice sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. His fingers pump in and out of you, fast and hard. “Wanted to taste you so bad, pretty girl.” 

“Logan,” you whine as he takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. “F-feels so good.” 

Your walls flutter around him as he sinks his fingers deeper inside you. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a desperation you’re well acquainted with. You feel it whenever you’re around him, whenever he’s pressing himself closer to you, pushing himself inside of you. 

“Doing so good for me, darlin’,” he soothes, his thumb drawing circles into your hip. “Tastes so fucking good, so sweet.” His words are practically throwing you over the edge, destroying you, and then building you back up. 

He’s knuckle-deep inside you, lapping at you, watching your every reaction to see what makes you feel good. The sight of him is overwhelming—his mouth latched onto your clit, hair a mess, sweat on his brow, lust darkening his eyes. 

You throw your head back as he hits your sweet spot, his fingers scissoring inside you. “S-so close,” you stutter as he sinks into you. “Need you, Lo,” you whimper. 

“Need you too, beautiful,” he murmurs between laps. “More than you’ll ever know.” The words—their vulnerability and meaning—push you over, your orgasm crashing in waves. “That’s it,” he coos, plunging into you. “Give it to me.” He talks you through it, soft praises slipping from his lips as his tongue drags along your clit. Lemme taste you come, sweetheart. So good. So fucking beautiful. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt long after you’ve finished. He licks one long stripe through your folds before crawling up your body and settling in between your legs. His lips find yours, and you can taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue, wearing you like a badge of honor, like proof of his commitment to you.

Commitment. Right.  

He made you feel so good that you almost let yourself forget. Your arrangement. This stupid, goddamn arrangement. 

No staying. No telling. You. Him. The moonlight. And then nothing. 

Logan’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot underneath your ear. 

“Lo,” you whisper. He hums against you, not stopping. “Logan,” you chide again. 

He pushes himself up, looking down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What is it, princess?” You swallow harshly, blinking back your tears. The expression on his face shifts as he recognizes the pain in your eyes. “You okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “I want you,” is all you say. 

“I want you too,” he says back, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“N-no,” you choke. “I want you.”

He pulls up a bit, putting some space between the two of you. “You have me,” he says, confusion painted across his face. 

“No, I don’t,” you mutter, shutting your eyes. 

Logan rolls off of you and sits up against the headboard. “What are you talking about?” 

You open your eyes, looking up at him. “I can’t do this ‘sneaking around’ thing anymore,” you start, tears flooding your eyes as you struggle to hold them back. “I want—” you cut yourself off. You can’t play down your emotions anymore. “I need you, all of you. Always. I’m tired of leaving, of hiding, of this whole casual thing.”

“Casual?” His voice is harsh, accusatory. “This isn’t fucking casual to me. You think I don’t care about you?” He reaches out to touch you, but you turn away, swinging your legs around the side of the bed. You grab your clothes from the floor and dress quickly. 

You turn back to face him. “Why don’t you want to stay with me, then? Why are we only together when no one is looking?” You shake your head, your hands balling into fists. “Why don’t you want me all the time?”

He scoffs, standing from the bed and striding over to you. “You don’t get it. I do. I want you. I just can’t—”

“You can’t what?” You shout. You don’t care who can hear you. You’re not even thinking about the others right now. You’re only thinking about Logan. And then, the words shoot out your mouth, cold and angry. Empty. Strained. “Can’t love me like I love you?”

Your eyes widen, shocked at what you’ve just said. Your chest heaves, and you rush to the door. 

“Wait, please,” Logan calls, running to catch you before you leave. “Don’t go.” 

You twist the knob. “It’s too late now.” You open the door and slip out, trying to shove it closed in his face. But Logan pushes against you, keeping the door open and stepping out into the hallway. You turn around and storm down the corridor, ignoring his footsteps following behind. 

He grabs your wrist, and you yank it away. You’re in front of your bedroom door now. Logan is just a few feet away. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

His eyes search yours frantically. “No, let’s talk. Let’s—”

You cut him off. “I don’t want to anymore, Lo.” You open your door, ignoring his pleas, leaving him on the other side as you slam it shut behind you. You rest your back against the cold wood, sliding down to the floor. You pull your legs into your chest, your head resting on your knees. 

Your tears flow freely now, running down your cheeks. You sit like that for what feels like hours, sobs racking through your chest. But when your tears finally subside and you look up, you see the moon is still high in the sky. 

You force yourself to stand, your knees weak as you push yourself off the ground. Your throat is dry from all that time spent crying. You decide to go down to the kitchen, to get water, to calm down. But when you open the door, you’re met with him. 

Logan. He’s on the other side, his hand gripping the door frame, muscles flexing, towering over you. You try to slip under his arm, but he doesn’t let you, grabbing your waist and holding you in place. 

“We need to talk,” he mutters, backing you into the room and shutting the door with a kick. 

You cross your arms against your chest. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” But he isn’t standing down. Your thighs back into the edge of your bed as Logan leans down over you. You look up at him, doing your all not to give in to the voice that screams to touch him, to taste him. You take a deep breath. “We want different things. You don’t want me the way I want you, and that’s fine,” you lie; it isn’t fine at all. 

“I never said that,” he huffs, his fingertips tentatively stroking your arms. You can’t pull away as his eyes find yours. “I just…” he trails off, taking your hands in his. 

You scoff, shaking your head. “You can’t even tell me how you feel. You can’t even—” “Because it’s hard!” He says, his jaw working. “It’s hard when you lose everyone you love.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “You don’t get it,” he murmurs, squeezing your hands, his chest heaving. 

“Logan—”

“You’re always around, always on my fucking mind.” He pauses, his eyes glossing over as the words fall from his lips. “I have never loved someone the way I love you. And if I lose you…if I can’t have you…” He trails off, pain clear on his face. “I will never be the same again. You changed me. And that’s terrifying. I felt safer keeping you at a distance but…” His breath catches in his throat. “I can’t go back to how I was before you.”

Your lips part as you stammer, searching for the right thing to say. “I-I didn’t know. I just assumed that you—” “That I was just fucking you?” He asks, tilting his head in disbelief. “This has never been just fucking.” He slots his knee between your legs, tugging you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you. Always have. From that first day.” 

You lean into his touch. “I love you, too,” you whisper. 

He presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t lose you,” he says. There’s a tremble in his voice. “It’s just you. It’s only ever gonna be you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you reassure. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

He nods against you. “I never meant to hurt you,” Logan husks. “Never meant to make you feel like I didn’t love you.”  

“Logan, it’s okay,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. You need him closer, and you know he needs you too. His hands slip underneath your shirt as his knee nudges against your center. “Always gonna need you.” You can’t help but grind down on him, the pressure relieving the building ache in your core. “N-need you now.”

“Need you too, pretty girl,” he soothes. He guides you down onto the mattress. His palms spread across your stomach, tracing over your ribs—just under your breasts. “Wanna make you feel good.” He cups your tits, squeezing softly, his thumbs ghosting over your nipples. 

Logan settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm, his knee still pressing into your all too-clothed cunt. He knows how much you need him—the way your hips roll against him, how you arch up to meet his touch. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, dragging your heat against him again. “Fuck me, please.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his erection hard against your thigh. You can feel his resolve slipping. “Gonna give you what you want, pretty girl,” he groans. “Give you anything you want.”

Everything is rushed, frantic, needy. He’s sitting up, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head, practically ripping it in the process. He hooks his thumbs into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one quick movement. 

He takes you in, his eyes flitting up and down your body. “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, his hand squeezing your hip reverentially before tearing off his beater and throwing it to the floor. He slips his sweatpants down his legs, and then his boxers. 

Logan pushes you into the center of the bed as he climbs over you. He balances on his forearm while his free hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your entrance. 

You can tell he wants to shove himself inside, to take you greedily, but he doesn’t. He’s holding back; going slow like he’s remembering this so he can think about it later, when he needs it most—savoring the feeling of you against him. His tip slides through your folds, teasing your entrance. He nudges against your clit, spreading your arousal. 

But his composure quickly cracks. He’s suddenly sinking inside you deeply—down to the hilt—with no warning, taking up every inch you have to give him. He stretches you out, the size of him still no easier to take than that first time he fucked you. “Logan,” you whine, hands pawing at his back for support. 

He swallows your whimpers with a kiss. “I’m right here.” His voice is honeyed as he talks you through it. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Not going anywhere.” He pulls out and shoves himself back inside, deeper this time. His fingers are on your clit now, circling softly. “So fucking tight, so wet. Perfect pussy.”

His cock rubs your inner walls deliciously, pumping in and out. He’s on top of you, inside you, and he’s yours. He’s all yours. You wrap your legs around his waist as he rocks into you. He’s building his pace, letting himself go. 

“It’s s-so good.” You stumble over your words, already fucked out. “Y-you’re so good.” 

His thrusts are faster now, his hips snapping roughly into yours. “So soft,” he murmurs, biting your bottom lip and then licking away the sting he left behind. “So fucking soft and pretty. Taking me so good, darlin’.”

His words spark that fire in your belly. You can feel it spread down, down, down. The ache between your legs blooming, turning into something bigger. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him. He groans at the feeling as you take him deeper. All you want, all you need, is him. Logan. “Yours,” you whisper. “L-Logan I’m all yours. Not going anywhere.”

“Shit,” he curses, pounding into you, all the way hit after hit. “You’re all I need,” he confesses between thrusts, panting. He flicks your clit, pinching, circling hard. “Mine, all fucking mine. Never gonna let go.”

“Don’t,” you beg, his forehead pressing to yours. He’s all-consuming; he’s everywhere and he’s everything. “D-don’t let go,” you finish, your lips ghosting his. He takes the hint, and his lips crash down onto yours as he ruts into you. 

You can feel yourself cresting, ready to let go. “I know you’re getting close for me, beautiful,” Logan growls, pressing a kiss to that sweet spot under your ear. “Can feel you squeezing me.” Your walls clench around him, and he groans. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Feels so good.”

“L-Lo…” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought as he fucks into you, stroking your clit faster and harder. You’re falling apart underneath him, every thrust pushing you closer to that peak. You throw your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Eyes on me,” Logan demands, his voice thick and raspy. You listen, looking up at him. His eyes are locked on yours, lust-filled and dark. “Wanna see that pretty face when you come, darlin’.” 

You can feel his pace faltering—can feel him getting closer too. But he’s relentless as his hips roll against yours, fingers still working your clit. It’s too much. “Logan,” you whimper. “I-I’m gonna…” “I know, beautiful,” he says softly. “Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my cock.” 

He thrusts again, flicking your clit. And that’s all it takes for you to crumble. He watches closely as you come undone. You’re trembling underneath him, his fingers still circling your core. Your muscles contract around him, sucking him in, taking him deeper. You moan his name like it’s a prayer, something holy. But this is beyond that. This is something more, something different. 

“L-love you, Lo,” you murmur, pleasure still coursing through your veins. 

Logan curses under his breath, your words unlocking something trapped inside him. His cock throbs against your walls, and you know he’s almost there. “Love you too, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Love you so fucking much.” He slides his hand up your body and under your back, pulling you closer. You need the contact, and so does he. 

“W-want you to come inside,” you whine, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 

“F-fuck, yeah?” He stutters. His cock twitches again. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart, give you what you need.” His lips find yours as he comes, kissing you hungrily. He’s warm inside you, painting your walls, filling you up just like he said he would. Logan’s head falls to your shoulder as his thrusts slow. He stalls inside you, staying there, not quite ready to slip out.

“Lo?” You call. He hums a yeah, sweetheart, into your shoulder. “D-don’t want you to pull out. Want you to stay inside.” 

He mutters a fuck and presses a kiss to your collarbone. He maneuvers the two of you under the covers, careful not to pull out. You’re a tangle of limbs, still connected, still together. He’s half hard inside you, and you know he’s not quite finished just yet. But there’s later, tomorrow, forever. Everything feels perfect—the way it was always meant to be. 

There’s one thing left to do; one thing left to ask. 

“Logan?” You call again. He smiles at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose. “Can you stay?”

His smile widens. “Always gonna stay,” he soothes, pulling you tighter to his chest, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “You never have to ask again.”

You hum, burying your head into the center of his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says against the crown of your head. “Always will. Always gonna stay.”

Always.

tags: @babygirl-4986

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW!nightcrawler/GN!AFAB!reader

This is my fic for mine and @pompeii-for-elephants ' fic exchange!! Hope you like it!!! I know I said I was surprised at myself when I wrote the cable smut, but this??? HOT DAYMN. Also, special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their guide on german phrases for Kurt!

TWS: MNDI!!! Very tender Sex, PNV sex, shower handjobs, praise, cowgirl position, Nipple sucking, creampie. Kurt Wagner marry me I'm begging you

 You hated goodbyes, but worse than the goodbyes was the waiting. The nail-biting, anxious, unbelievably horrid waiting. 

  Kurt had been off on a mission with Logan and Rogue for about two weeks. You know it could be worse, understanding that some of these missions can take months at a time, but still. It was hard, being away from him for so long. You worried constantly about how he was, if he was okay, and if he needed anything. The moments where your mind was busy were moments of relief, as when you let your mind wander it always wandered back to him. 

  You’ve just dismissed your class for the day when Jean psychically gives you confirmation that the group of them would be coming home today, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost done grading assignments when you hear the jet above the school and practically scramble out of your chair. You hastily turn off the light and close the door, speed-walking down the hallway and then down the stairs to the bottom floor. You’re almost at the steps of the basement when you hear a *Bamf!* from behind you. You practically skid to a stop, whipping around and catching sight of Kurt with an excited smile.

  You’re the first to tackle him into a hug. He hisses in a bit of pain, and you quickly try to pull away when you realize that he’s hurting. He’s not having any of it though, keeping you held tightly against his chest as he holds you close.

  “Ich habe dich vermisst.” Kurt says, pressing his face into your hair and breathing you in. “I went to your classroom, but it seems that I had been just a tad too late.” You laugh at that, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away just enough to see his face. His smile is contagious, and you cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing your thumb against a dark bruise that looks to be forming under his cheekbone. 

 “Sorry to lead you on a chase. How are you feeling?” You ask. Kurt hums, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

  “Better now that I’ve seen you, Schatz.” You cock an eyebrow at that, and all he does is give you an innocent smile, albeit a tired one. You’re trying to be reasonable here, but god if it wasn't for a wave of cuteness aggression. You catch his lips in a kiss, so very thankful to have him back home. Kurt eagerly returns it, and you’ve certainly forgotten that this is still a school at this point. On cue, there’s a cough from somewhere behind you, and you separate from Kurt, only slightly embarrassed to be caught. It’s Logan, giving the two of you a knowing look and a bit of a smirk as he crosses his arms.

 “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but you’re still needed for the mission report, elf.” Logan says. Kurt winces, and you frown at the thought of being away from him again. But, procedures were in place for a reason. Kurt kisses you on the cheek, taking your hands in his just briefly before he has to leave.

The whole afternoon has gone by with Kurt still caught up with his responsibilities. You’re getting ready for the shower with only a towel wrapped around you when you hear Kurt enter your shared room. He gives you a greeting that sounds tired, and you can’t help but peek out of the bathroom door, spotting sweet Kurt as he sighs and sits on the bed, exhausted. You try not to stare as he begins to take off his suit, but it’s admittedly hard. You frown at seeing his exhaustion, and the dark purple bruises that he reveals as he peels out of the clothing. You think for a moment, but come up with something you decide was more than fair.

  “I’ll see you as soon as I can, Ja?” He whispers. You nodd, smiling in a way you hope is rather reassuring. He smiles back, before following Logan back into the basement.

  “Hey, Kurt?” You ask sweetly, leaning against the doorway. 

  “Yes, love?” He asks. He does a double take when he looks up, giving you a tired smile once his surprise wears off.

  “Join me?” You add on. His bright smile is all you need as an answer, and he scrambles to get out of the suit faster as you walk back into the bathroom. He teleports behind you as you start the water, dragging you backward into his arms to make you giggle.

  “Let me help you with that, Mein Schatz.” Kurt says as he unravels the towel from you. He hangs it on the rack before turning back to you, and you can’t help but get closer to him, holding his face in your hands as you place a kiss on his forehead. His yellow eyes watch you fondly, his hands falling on your hips and his tail swaying happily as you hold him. Your hands stroke his cheekbones, before trailing down to his chest, rubbing your thumbs across his collarbones as you look at the bruises on his chest and abdomen. You frown, trailing a hand to the area to gingerly stroke the skin.

  “You let Hank check you out?” You ask. Kurt nods, taking your hand in his own and pressing it over his heart.

  “Alles ist gut, Don’t worry for me, Liebchen. I’ll heal soon enough.” He says, and you sigh at him, giving him a concerned look. Kurt had always been a defender and protector, and yet he still brushed off his aches and pains. Even now he stands here, telling you not to worry. He gives you a sheepish smile, brushing a hand through your hair soothingly.

  “It’s wash night. Let me wash your hair for you?” He asks. You smile, but shake your head before pulling him to the shower.

  “I was hoping I could take care of you tonight.” You say. Kurt simply chuckles in response, following you into the warm stream of water. You start by washing his hair, being careful around his ears and eyes when you rinse. Kurt has no complaints as you lavish him with attention, almost purring as you wash him and cover him in suds. You turn him around to wash his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before continuing. You can’t help but be a little cheeky, hands trailing down south, teasing the skin around his hipbones before sliding back to grab a handful of his ass. Kurt jumps a little but only laughs, his tail swatting your hands away.

  “Cheeky.” He remarks, and you can tell he’s smiling. You let out a small “Can you blame me?” before your hands travel back around his front. You kiss the back of his neck sweetly as your hands wander up and down his abdomen. Kurt sighs as he leans back into you, relaxing in your arms.

  Your hands begin to wander, trailing down to his cock as you just barely brush your fingers along his length. Kurt gasps, tail curling around one of your thighs as his head leans back.

  “Schatz…”

  “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You whisper into his ear, hands moving to his thighs, tracing the sensitive skin. “I know you’re tired, so just… let me know.”

  “No... no. Please, continue.” He begs, the tip of his tail swaying idly between your thighs. You kiss the skin below his ear as you begin to caress him again, gently stroking him to hardness amongst the soapy suds. His gasps and choked moans are lighting a fire inside of you as you stoke the one in him. You nip and suck on the sensitive skin of his ear, addicted to the feeling of him against you, and the sounds he makes in your hold. 

  He lets out a curse as you thumb the head of his cock, collecting a bead of precum as you stroke it back down his shaft. Your other hand drifts a bit lower, teasing his balls before you give them a gentle squeeze. Kurt lets out a little “-ah!” and a whine as you build him closer and closer to the finish line. His cock twitches in your hands, his breath coming in shaky pants. His hands reach back for your thighs, clenching and unclenching as he reaches closer to his peak. You pick up the pace of your strokes, and he lets out a loud whine when he cums. You stroke and kiss him through it, sucking a hickey into his skin as his hips thrust and legs shake. His cum coats your fingers when you’re finished, sticky and creamy in consistency. 

  “Feel better?” You ask. Kurt chuckles in response, taking one of your hands in his own, still coated in his cum. He kisses it before ducking it into the stream of water, cleaning your hands off before he turns around and kisses you. His tail wraps around your waist as he draws you as close as possible, only letting you go once he's had his fill.

  “Let me have you,” He whispers. “Please.” You're breathless at the words, biting your lip as you think it over. You kiss him again, and then a second time for good measure.

  “I don't want you to strain yourself. You've had a long day.” You tell him. Kurt pouts at you. His tail tightens slightly around your waist. You sigh with a smile at the look he gives you, his eyes half-lidded and needy. 

  “Okay, but I just want you to lay back and relax, alright? Let me do the work.” Your palms are set on his pecs, slowly sliding up and down the area. “Let me take care of you for a change.” You whisper. Kurt smiles at you, his tail unwrapping from your waist as he backs you up to the wall of the shower. He's got you cornered into the wall, and he brings a hand up, shutting off the water after pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

  “As you wish.” He says.

  It's hard to keep up with what's happening between the shower and the bed, but once his back hits the sheets, you're engulfing him in love and praise, thankful to have him home and happy to serve him pleasure on a silver platter.

“You're so pretty, Kurt.” You hum, actively kissing across his fuzzy abs, a hand tracing the soft hair of his happy trail as you pay extra attention to the deep bruises he came home with. Kurt’s chest heaves, his hands clenching the pillow at his head as you lavish him in attention. The sight of him was stunning. Deep blue skin and pretty black curls… Kurt gasps underneath you as you drag your teeth bluntly across his nipple, and you can't help but smile at the sound. He's rock hard underneath you, flushed a pretty purple at his tip as his cock stands at attention. You don't let him stay painfully hard, stroking him slowly to scratch that itch he so desperately deserves to have scratched. 

  One of his hands unclenches from the pillow as you start to press kisses to his cock, teasing and licking the skin. The limb flexes by his hip, and you take the invitation to lace his fingers between your own. It was a bit awkward to figure out when the two of you first started dating, but there was no mountain you weren't willing to climb if it meant returning the love he gave you in such abundance. You know he would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. You stroke him a few final times, kissing the sensitive head of his cock and sucking it into your mouth as one last effort to hear him whine before you’re straddling him.

  You grind your wet folds against his cock, perhaps a little more sensitive than usual. Kurt's lost in a world of pleasure, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you. You're absolutely soaked, already feeling like you could take him in entirely, but you continue to grind against him, spreading your slick across his shaft to make sure that there won't be any struggle on either end. His other hand comes down to rest on your hip, kneading the skin as you move. You squeeze your intertwined hands, resting your free one on top of the one he's placed on your hip.

  “I love your hands, you know that?” You murmur. Kurt responds with a moan as his hips jerk up, moving against yours. “-and your arms, your tail, and fuzz and- a-ah…” You bite your lip as the head of his cock catches on your clit. You're beginning to get impatient, even though you were the one who chose this pace in the first place. He just felt so good and warm against you- hitting all the right spots without even being inside you yet.

  “Please, love, let me- hng… I enjoy your words, and your praise, but perhaps too much. Spare me, please.” Kurt breathes. His grip on your hip has gotten rather tight, his tail winding around your thigh once again, like he does when he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He's waiting for you, you realize, and you want to do nothing more than kiss him silly.

  Instead, you do exactly what he asks for, and spare him. The head of his cock notches against your slit before he slides in without any effort, settling in comfortably for the both of you. Both of your moans greet the air at the action, surprised at the utter lack of resistance. You'd think that you'd have to be well prepared for this kind of thing, but no, seems that all you needed was Kurt.

  “That was… You feel…” Kurt’s struggling to get the words across, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure. You're trying your hardest not to balance yourself by leaning on him as you begin to slowly work your hips.

  “Believe- me, you did most of the -ah- work, handsome.” You say breathlessly. Kurt’s yellow eyes flicker open as you start moving earnestly, watching you ride him with conviction. Both of you moan when he happens to hit that spongy spot inside of you that feels so good. 

  “Danke, danke… Love- ah, fuck!” Kurt moans, his voice coming out breathlessly toward the end of his sentence. He doesn't curse like that very often, and it makes a flicker of heat light you up from the inside.

  “So good Kurt, you feel so good.” You gasp, each bounce of your hips causing his cock to stroke your insides just right. His hand on your hip begins to move up to your waist before it goes further to just barely brush against your sensitive nipples. You gasp again at the feeling, letting out an almost embarrassing moan.

  You're caught by surprise as Kurt is sitting up, letting go of your other hand to push you against him. He leans forward, his tail now flicking excitedly behind him as he sucks and nips at the skin of your chest. You rest your hands against his shoulders as you pick up the pace of your hips, addicted to the feeling of Kurt’s hums and moans as he sucks on your nipples.

  “I’m…I'm close-” Kurt barely separates from your body to say the words, his hands clenching against you has he begins to tense and twitch.

  “Ye-Yeah?” You ask, one hand tangling itself in his still-damp hair. “Okay, handsome- ah- I've got you.” You can feel him begin to twitch inside of you, each and every movement bringing both of you to your peaks. Kurt lets go of your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, catching you in an urgent and passionate kiss.

  “Cum for me, please.” You say in between his kisses. He simply moans in response as your hips begin to falter, a telltale sign that you're about to reach that sweet, sweet pleasure.

  Kurt cums first, tensing and shaking underneath you as spurts of his cum warm your insides. He brings a thumb to your clit to help you meet your own orgasm as you work him through his. Stars flash in your eyes as you hit that peak of pleasure, grinding against him, once, twice, three more times before you collapse against his chest. Kurt chuckles contently beneath you, rubbing your back and kissing the parts of you he can reach as you rest against him.

  “You okay?” You ask the moment you're back down to earth again. “I didn't hurt you in any way, did I?” Kurt shakes his head at you, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

  “No, not at all, Liebling.” He says fondly. “I'm not sure you could if you tried.” You can't help but smile at that, sighing into him as you rest against his chest. It feels good to have him back. He slips out of you before he lays both of you back down against the cushions, where you take your chance to pepper his face with kisses.

  “Ich liebe dich.” He says softly. “So much. Much more than you know.”

  “I love you more.”

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.

sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.

you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.

"what?"

"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.

"my house and back. i can't look nice?"

"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.

"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.

"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.

"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.

"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."

sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"

"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.

your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.

she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.

school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.

you home today? i wanna see you.

you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.

"she's tucked in."

your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.

"hello? you good?"

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.

"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."

"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.

"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.

"stay. i wanna talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.

"that's none of your business."

"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"

"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."

sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."

you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"

"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."

"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.

you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"

it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.

"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.

"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."

"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."

you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."

thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.

"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"

shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.

"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"

you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."

"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.

"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.

"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.

his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.

he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.

"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.

your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[nereidprinc3ss]

lava lamp

in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression

fluff

warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse

a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800

The room is awash in hot pink. 

It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 

The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 

Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 

The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 

“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 

You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 

“How’re you feeling, honey?”

A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 

“Tired.”

More quiet. 

“What kind of tired?”

But he knows what kind of tired. 

“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 

“I can handle it.”

If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”

Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 

“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”

You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 

“Yeah.”

Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 

“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”

You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  

“Really?”

The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider. 

“Metaphorically speaking.”

He’s perfect. 

You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 

Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 

You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”

And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 

[pucksandpower]

Ruin You

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you and Charles are a perfect match — he enjoys utterly ruining you and you … well, you enjoy being ruined

Warnings: 18+ content

You wake slowly, the familiar scent of his skin filling your nose as you become aware of the warm body pressed against yours. His arm is draped heavily over your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Charles.

But how?

He wasn’t due home until tomorrow night. You smile sleepily, reveling in the feel of him, the solid weight of his body grounding you.

“Charles?” You murmur.

He makes a soft sound against your skin, his arm tightening around you. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow,” you say.

He lifts his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he looks at you. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His voice is low and gravelly with sleep, sending a shiver down your spine. He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss, cradling your face in his hand. You melt into him, heat pooling low in your belly. When he finally pulls back you’re breathless.

“Well consider me thoroughly surprised,” you say a little shakily.

He smiles, trailing kisses along your jaw. “I missed you. Couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.”

You bite your lip as his mouth finds the sensitive spot below your ear. He nips at it, drawing a gasp from you. Your fingers curl into his shirt.

“Charles …”

“Hmm?” The vibration of his voice against your skin makes you shiver.

You swallow thickly. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

He lifts his head again, eyes dark. “Who says I don’t intend to finish it?”

Your breath hitches at the promise in his gaze. He claims your mouth again, more insistently this time. You respond eagerly, heat building as your tongues tangle. He rolls you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he deepens the kiss. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, heart hammering in your chest.

When he finally breaks away you’re gasping. His eyes rake over you possessively.

“This needs to go,” he says lowly, fingers skimming the hem of your camisole.

He doesn’t wait for a response, grasping the fabric and pulling it smoothly over your head. The cool air pebbles your bare skin and you shiver. His gaze smolders as it travels over you, making you burn.

He leans down, lips grazing your collarbone. “So beautiful …”

You sigh, tilting your head back to give him access. His mouth trails lower, tongue flicking out to taste you. He lavishes attention on your breasts, teeth and tongue teasing you until you’re writhing beneath him.

“Charles please …” you gasp out.

He lifts his head, eyes blazing. “Please what, mon ange?”

You flush under the intensity of his gaze. “I need you.”

Something dark flashes in his eyes. He moves back up your body, hand curving around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding you in place as he looks down at you.

“I know exactly what you need,” he rasps. “And I’m going to give it to you, over and over until you’re screaming my name. Until you can’t think of anything but me and the way I make you feel. I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”

Arousal floods you at his words, core aching. You reach for him desperately but he catches your wrists, pinning them to the bed.

“Be patient, mon amour.”

He rolls his hips, hardness pressing into your core through the layers of clothing still separating you. You gasp, back arching off the bed at the friction. He does it again and again, until you’re writhing and pleading beneath him. Only then does he release your hands, sitting back to remove his shirt.

Your eyes drink in the lean planes of his chest, unable to resist reaching out to trace along the firm muscle. He shudders under your touch, muscles tensing. When your hands go to the waistband of his sweatpants he grabs your wrists again, stopping you.

“Not yet,” he says roughly. “It’s my turn to touch you.”

He strips your sleep shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, baring you fully to him. You squirm under the heat of his gaze but he holds you still, fingers gently stroking along your inner thighs. He takes his time reacquainting himself with every inch of you, until you’re dripping and shaking with need.

“Please,” you sob, “I can’t take anymore.”

He relents then, shedding the last of his own clothes before covering you with his body once more. You cling to him desperately as he enters you in one long stroke, finally giving you what you need. What only he can give you.

He sets a relentless pace, driving into you again and again. The slide of his skin against yours is intoxicating, his hands and mouth roaming your writhing body greedily. He brings you to the peak over and over, pushing you higher each time before letting you fall. Your world narrows down to just the two of you, nothing existing beyond this bed, beyond the feelings he drags from your shuddering frame.

You’re sobbing his name, pleading and incoherent when he finally takes mercy on you, letting you shatter fully in his arms. Your vision goes white, body seized in rapture as you come undone around him. His thrusts grow erratic as your release triggers his own, groaning your name against your skin as he spills inside you.

You float back down slowly, clinging to each other. He presses tender kisses to your face, murmuring praise and adoration until you finally open your eyes to meet his loving gaze.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly, brushing the hair back from your face. “How do you feel?”

You give him a dazed, blissful smile. “Ruined. Just like you promised.”

He grins and kisses you sweetly. “I’ll ruin you as many times as you want. I’m all yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You caress his face, heart overflowing. “Forever then.”

He kisses you again, soft and deep. When he pulls back his eyes are glowing.

“Forever,” he agrees.

You curl into him, resting your head on his chest as his arms come around you. His heartbeat lulls you, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your back. Safe and sated in the circle of his embrace, you let your eyes drift closed. There’s no place you’d rather be than right here with him.

[tired-biscuit]

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: first kiss, dry humping, premature ejaculation, established relationship, virgin!yuuji, crack ending — i couldn’t help myself, lol.

wc: 1.5k

the first time you kiss yuuji, he blushes so hard that even his lips feel hot to the touch.

the sudden rush of blood that overcomes his face makes them puffy and almost kind of swollen; it’s very pleasant to kiss him because of it. whenever you open your eyes just to sneak a quick peek at him, the deep rosy colour only turns more and more prominent with every kiss.

they part rather quickly when you gather the courage to push further and press your tongue against his bottom lip, hopefully hinting well enough that you want to deepen the kiss. and you’re in luck; yuuji is eager to grant you your wish! the way his hands tighten their already somewhat tenacious grip around your hips so that he can pull you closer tells you so.

so you sit on his lap; chest to chest, arms wrapped around his neck, both of you feeling safe and secure in the darkness to surround you. you can’t see him all that well — the only way you were able to notice the colour of his lips and the blush that still steadily tints his cheeks and neck was because your phone had lit up with a notification, which you had promptly decided to ignore in favour of making out with your new boyfriend.

and your new boyfriend tastes impeccably sweet, you’ll give him that. like bubblegum that’s as pink as his hair and the one you’re currently swapping between your panting mouths every so often because he forgot to spit it out before you had started making your move. it makes his saliva taste sugary. it makes your taste buds overstimulated.

you groan into his mouth at the flavour and his entire body goes entirely stiff at the sound. he pulls back with a pop sounding out, the film of sweet drool causing your mouths to feel sticky as you part. it stretches in the small space of emptiness between your faces, a thin silvery string that glimmers in the small light of your phone screen when it lights up for a second time. your friends are so curious and nosy about him, aren’t they?

speaking of curiosity: yuuji looks at you with that exact emotion riddling his features, dark pupils steadily growing in the darkness of the room. his eyes are so big and his heart is pounding — you swear that its rhythm is rattling against your chest now. even concealed in shadows, you can tell that he’s looking at you like a deer caught in flashing headlights.

“what’s wrong?” you murmur, voice breathless, teeth chewing on the gum that’s since lost its flavour. it’s like he’s sucked the air straight out of your lungs with the kisses, you can barely talk. “did i do something you didn’t like…?”

“n-no, i liked it; i liked it a lot! i just—” he starts quickly, almost spluttering to get the words out as fast as he can, however the small gasp that slips out of you when a certain kind of hardness pokes against your underwear then instantly breaks his sentence into nothing.

you’re in a little skirt, he’s got sweatpants on. warmth pools between your legs at the way the ridge of his cock presses between your folds now, making your pussy practically eat up your underwear. you’ve got so many layers of clothes separating you from him, well at least he does, but you can feel the pressure, the warmth, the thickness as it grows, grows, grows.

goodness, his cock is big, isn’t it?

some kind of daze overcomes your mind at the realization, urging your hips to seemingly roll all on their own. it’s been a while since you got any so it’s no wonder that instinct takes over in a blink of an eye. you succumb to it completely with zero shame, and the grunt yuuji lets out in response to your ministrations doesn’t sound anything like him. it’s so deep and dark and male-like, coming from the very back of his throat, that it makes your skin feel way too tight all of a sudden.

he wants to ask you what you’re doing, what you’re planning on doing, but he finds himself incapable of forming a word, much less a full sentence. everything feels so good, so overwhelming and raw. all he can muster is a pathetic little gasp — similar to the one you had let out just a moment prior discovering how hot and bothered your kisses have actually made him. your pussy just feels so fucking soft, after all; he can tell how soft it is even with his sweatpants on.

his breath hitches in his throat when you readjust and really press on the boner that keeps on pushing up against the thick cotton so stubbornly now, sitting on it properly this time despite the fact that there’s no skin to skin contact yet. your fingers run through his hair, nails dragging along the back of his head as you do so, and your warm exhales tickle his face. you’re so close that your tits are pressing against his chest, dulling the nervous bouncing of his heart.

he’s melted into putty that you play with and knead with your greedy, grabby little hands. you kiss him again, teeth painfully clicking because of the eagerness, and his lips are so tender, practically red by now — for fuck’s sake, has his face always felt so fucking hot?

your palms slide down, blatant excitement overcoming your mind at the sight and feel of him, at all the noise he’s making, at the feeling of that goddamn monster that he’s been hiding from you in his sweatpants for all this time. they move along the sides of his neck, over his broad shoulders, down his firm chest. you fist his t-shirt as you kiss him even deeper than you did before, angling your head to the side as much as you’re able so that you can really taste the inside of his mouth and glide your tongue across his pretty teeth. back and forth the flat, pearly-white surfaces.

meanwhile, yuuji is holding you like you’re his only chance of survival; squeezing you so hard that it makes your bones ache. he’s so much stronger than he realizes, the way his fingers keep digging into you, desperately trying to make sure that you’re actually real, is uncomfortable, however you still continue to grind yourself against him like a dog.

your pace is quickening with every swing of your hips against his own, your pulse is skyrocketing, adrenaline rising, heart going absolutely fucking wild. your skirt rustles as it rises up your thighs, exposing more skin, making him touch every inch that’s out in the open. the friction is good, not nearly enough to make you cum, but if you can keep it like this for long enough, maybe, just maybe you’ll—

the sudden moan that rips out of yuuji’s throat is as vulnerable as much as it is slutty. he might be a virgin — or that is what he’s told you at least — but he sure sounds like a fucked out whore when the pleasure ripples through him in one great, unstoppable wave and sinks his thoughts into the murky depths below. he doesn’t even stand a chance when it comes to taming it or holding it off.

his hips jerk upwards and the muscle in his jaw flutters as he cums; you can feel it dance under the tips of your fingers when you caress his face in attempt to soothe him. his skin has gotten so slick with sweat in these past few minutes that they practically glide along the edge as he breathes heavily. you can even taste the salt that you’ve kissed off his cupid’s bow earlier.

it all happened so fast.

“yuuji?” you say his name quietly at some point, your voice a mere whisper. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips but you force yourself not to show it in fear of offending him for spilling warm, milky white release directly into his boxers so quickly. “are you okay?”

“no.” a whole minute passes before he finally rests his head back against the backrest of the couch, takes one deep breath and says, “i think… i think i completely messed up my pants just now.”

you laugh at this, unable to stop it. he’s flustered, yes, but not embarrassed or guilty, so you deem it safe to tease him a little. “come on, don’t say it like that!”

“why not?” he asks, blinking tiredly.

“‘cause it makes it sound like you shat yourself or something!”

he snickers at the taunt. it’s boyish and wicked, just like the glint in his eye is now that the fog of lust is slowly clearing up and his sanity is creeping back. “well, with the way i’m feeling at the moment, i just might have.”

you punch him in the chest playfully. “you’re so gross… and nasty!”

“yeah,” he mumbles as he catches your fist into his hand so that he can kiss it tenderly. “you said it first, though.”

and with the way things are going, it seems like you’re going to become his first fuck really soon as well.

[b1rds3ye]

Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[p4ranormaluv]

HER

you wouldn’t have guessed you’d end up getting eaten out by your boyfriend in the basement of a house party, but jake just looks too sexy when he’s high— you can’t resist.

pairings) jake x f!reader

genre) smut

contents) established relationship, house party, jake’s horny af from the start, drug/alcohol use, shotgunning [weed], petnames: angel/baby, making out, a little exhibitionism, light d/s dynamics: m.dom/f.sub, dry humping, face sitting, fingering, praise, [ft. other enha members]

wc) 2.3k

note) hope this gives chase atlantic vibes.

you hop into jake’s car and shut the door behind you in one fluid motion, looking over to your boyfriend as he smirks at you, taking you in with one hand on the steering wheel, the other moving to squeeze your thigh like he always does.

“hey, angel. you look sexy.” he smiles with heavy set eyes. his gaze tries to stay at your face, but they keep flicking back down to your body in the tight, black party dress you’re wearing, barely covering your hips.

jake leans over to press a kiss to your lips that he quickly slips his tongue into, and when your insides start fluttering and jake starts huffing between kisses— you know you need to push him away, or you won’t end up going to the party he’s meant to be driving you to at all.

“down boy.” you giggle after pushing him by his chest, him still staring at your lips and how they move as you speak.

“jake!”

“s— sorry! sorry, baby.” he refocuses, head shaking for a moment as he seems to come back to reality. “you ready to go?”

“yes, jakey.” you say with a faux exhausted tone, fond smile giving your true emotions away.

“i know you love it” jake teases, lifting a cocky brow almost to himself as he takes the car out of park and begins to drive forward.

and yeah, you do love it.

but his ego doesn’t need to hear you say that out loud.

(❤︎)

the large house is packed with people like a can of sardines, the heat of bodies and the smell of alcohol strong as the music reverberates through the floor. the lighting is mostly dark other than a few flashing lights.

jake holds your hand or is glued to your ass practically the entire time you’re there, not wanting to lose you and feeling over protective— as he always does at these parties. he trusts you, he just doesn’t want some douche harassing you or not knowing where you are in such a big crowd like this. he’d worry you’d get hurt.

you’re both currently in the kitchen talking to jay and heeseung, you nursing a red solo cup that jake takes sips from occasionally as well.

jake’s leaning back on the counter with a hand on your waist, keeping you against him. he gently grabs your wrist, bringing the cup towards his mouth.

you look over your shoulder at him, meeting him halfway and tilting the cup down for him to drink. he squeezes your waist to signal he’s done, smiling at you sweetly in thanks and giving you a kiss.

there’s a lull in the conversation when jay asks heeseung if he knows where ‘the good stuff’ is— and you’re assuming he’s asking for harder liquor (knowing jay) when heeseung leads him out of the kitchen.

you’re apparently the only one paying attention to this ordeal as jake’s suddenly groping your ass through your dress, pressing his groin into you and making sure you feel his hard on.

“jake…” you say in warning, but he recognizes the arousal in your tone, which sounds weak in its resolve.

“babyyy~, im so hard for you.” he whines sexily, voice husky as he starts pressing kisses to your neck, grinding his hips into you. “can we please find a bedroom?”

“can we participate in the party for at least a little bit longer?” you giggle, definitely not opposed to the idea, but you want to mingle more.

jake groans dramatically, separating his lips from the small nibbles he was giving your exposed shoulder to press his face into the crook of your neck. “you’re so mean to me, wearing this sexy ass dress with such easy access and not even letting me fuck you in it.”

“i will. just not right now.” you promise with a teasing smile, biting your lip as you look at him over your shoulder again. jake thinks you look way too sexy at this angle.

“god, you’re killing me.”

(❤︎)

turns out ‘the good stuff’ is weed. jay and heeseung come back a few minutes later to lead you and jake to the basement of the house, opening a random door that descends down into stairs.

heeseung flicks the lights on and led strips light up along the ceiling, casting the room in slowly changing colors.

“are we supposed to be down here?” jake asks, looking around as you walk to the couch together hand in hand.

“i don’t think jungwon minds. i locked the door so the whole party doesn’t follow us down here.” heeseung answers, letting you two take the couch as he and jay sit on nearby chairs, a coffee table connecting you all in the center.

the boys don’t take long to start things up, the room filling with the faint smell of weed as jake takes a few hits. you don’t really feel like it, other than breathing in the second hand smoke. but when jake takes another puff, passing the blunt over to jay and then leaning over to cup your jaw, looking at you with eyes that ask for permission, you lean closer.

parting your lips, you suck in the gray smoke jake slowly exhales out, pretty nose brushing against yours as he looks down at your lips. once you’ve taken the hit, jake practically crashes his lips into yours. you finally start to give in to that feeling in your stomach— far from immune to jake’s charms and flirting he’s been directing to you all night.

jake bites softly on your bottom lip, smiling at your almost silent gasp from the action and how you press your lips back on him, eager for more as you get lost in his kiss.

its when you start sucking on jake’s tongue that’s inside your mouth and he lets out a groan that jay and heeseung finally say something, awkwardly standing up from their chairs at the same time.

“um, maybe we should— uh,” jay struggles, trying and failing to think of an excuse to leave.

“beer.” heeseung says stiffly, already frantically jogging up the stairs as jay rushes to follow him.

“we’ll get more beer.”

you press a hand to your face, giggling in thorough embarrassment at how you lost yourself so easily to jake’s lips that you forgot about your two friends being in the room.

“oh my god, we’re that couple.” you cringe.

“it’s fine, they’ll get over it.” jake chuckles, grabbing your hand to remove it from your face.

when you look at jake again you see how his eyes are slightly red and heavy lidded, fluffy hair tousled and lips red from making out, looking as plush as ever.

you’re not sure if jake doesn’t notice or ignores how you stare at him while biting your lip, finding him incredibly hot and irresistible right now as he reaches over to grab the abandoned blunt that sits on the coffee table.

“wanna do one more with me?”

“kay.” you reply softly, finding your voice compromised, either by the smoke or your arousal and distraction from the sexy man in front of you— who you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

this time when jake takes a drag, you surprise him when you abruptly move to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. he recovers quickly as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist possessively, pulling you closer while you breath in his smoke.

you whine before crashing your lips to his, trying to lick into his mouth as jake irritatingly keeps them pressed closed.

“what happened to ‘participating’ in the party?” he giggles, trying to dodge your incessant attempted kisses.

“what happened to your hard on?” you mock, moving your hand between you to grope his bulge. jake fails to suppress a moan as his eyes squeeze shut. “oh wait, it’s still here.”

“stop— stop bullying me.” jake pouts after recovering, trying to give you his signature puppy eyes. it doesn’t have the same vibes when his eyes are glassy and blushed from being stoned, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have an effect on you.

you smirk at his indirect apology as jake leans back into your lips again, continuing your make out session. your little black dress is forced to ride up in this position, jake letting out a soft moan as his hands that were feeling up your thighs brush over the exposed lace waistband of your panties. you grind down, getting wetter and wetter as you and jake lazily hump on each other while your tongues explore the other’s mouth.

you let out the sweetest sound that has jake’s hips bucking, pressing your tits into his chest as you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. jake separates one of his hands that was previously fondling your ass beneath your dress to take a handful of your covered breast that’s beginning to spill out of the top, kneeding it in his veiny hand.

“baby…wanna kiss you.” he whispers against you.

“you already are, jake. are you that high?” you say impatiently, not wanting to separate from his lips to speak.

“not these lips,” jake says lowly, kissing your mouth for emphasis before his hand slowly trails down from your breast to between your legs, fingers gently feeling over your covered pussy. “these ones.”

oh.

it’s like a switch has flipped, hands grabbing anywhere at jake as desperate begs of “yes”, “now?” and “please” come from your mouth.

jake hurries to lower himself and lay down against the couch, hands never leaving your waist until he tells you to take your panties off. he groans as he watches you stand and slide them down your sexy legs, snatching them from your hands the second they’re off and shoving them into his back pocket.

“sit on my face, angel.” jake coos as you’re quick to obey, straddling his head.

jake sighs at the beautiful sight of your bare pussy hovering over him, glistening in arousal. he slides his hands up your thighs to push up your dress, then he’s guiding you to lower down.

you feel your core meeting jake’s lips, whimpering as jake parts them to give you a fleeting lick.

“jakey, please don’t tease me.” you whine.

“naughty girl,” his hot breath fans against you. “you do realize the door is unlocked, right, baby?”

your stomach flips as your struck with realization. the basement door locks from the inside. when jay and heeseung left, they couldn’t lock it behind them, leaving the possibility of anyone to come in and see you sitting on jake’s face in the middle of the room.

it’s at this moment that jake takes a tighter grip on your hips and pulls you down roughly to force all your weight onto his face, eating you out passionately. you gasp, hands moving to grip the arm rest of the couch that’s right above jake’s head.

your slight buzz has you feeling more sensitive. every time jake sucks your clit between his puffy lips and warm mouth, your thighs clench around his head— causing jake to moan loudly and go that much harder on you.

“baby— baby! fuck!” you cry, starting to roll your hips against his face.

jake feels like he’s about to lose his mind. you’re so fucking sexy and your grinding your pussy against his face. something about your juices taste even sweeter tonight, and he finds himself unable to get enough.

he keeps his mouth on your pussy, one of his long, thick fingers starting to slowly push inside your entrance.

you whine out, rolling your hips more firmly and gasping as jake’s pretty nose bumps against your clit perfectly.

it doesn’t take long for jake to press a second finger inside your needy pussy, your noises becoming more frequent as he can tell your getting close.

“my dirty little angel. you like riding my face, baby? where anyone could walk in and see?”

you can only hum out an agreeing sound, nodding your head as your eyes squeeze shut while jake starts pumping his fingers in and out. wet noises resound in the room, jake looking up at your pretty expression and how the led’s cast a pretty red glow across your skin, fading to purple a moment later.

“you like that don’t you? pussy’s so wet.”

jake can only marvel at you for a little more before he’s nestling back inbetween your legs again.

he switches between flattening his tongue against you and stiffening it to part your pussy and circle around your clit. that combined with his fingers that are so much bigger than yours, curving just right and finding that little spot inside you that has your thighs quivering— you’re deduced to nothing but high pitched whimpers and a melted brain— needing to cum.

“close, baby? need it?”

“please,” you find yourself barely able to get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, brain foggy and overwhelmed with the heightened pleasure. “please let me cum.”

“go ahead, angel girl. get it all over my face.”

the band in your tummy snaps as you finally let go, your hands frantically moving to find purchase in jake’s hair as you pull on his locks, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

jake loves it, moaning into your cunt as he drinks you up and lets your trembling hips smear it all over his face.

your orgasm lasts a while until you finally finish and move down off his face shakily to straddle his stomach instead, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

when you finally look up it’s like jake was waiting for you to, eyes still heavy lidded as he takes his dripping fingers and sucks them into his mouth, cleaning up all your juices from them while his chin and lips still glisten with the rest of your essence.

“my turn?”

jake smirks as he’s sitting up and pulling his pants down— and you don’t need any convincing as you lay down on your back and spread your legs for him.

note) this was supposed to be a quickie to tie yall over while i’m working on my october works but it ended up longer than intended.

[1980shorrorfilm]

hopelessly devoted to you

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…a certain someone remembers your birthday.

before you read…fluff. angst. cutie patootie ellie <3

it was a grueling day. the sky dim from the consistent storming, the rain damping your body and hair, up until you and jesse had taken cover at a moldy gas station. you sat there for an hour, listening to him talk about dina and their separation…their tenth separation? you lost track a while ago.

but you don’t judge, you hummed in agreement to his frustrations and nodded the entire time. you get him, you do. your failed love life could be a ten-minute-long monologue, you think. relationships are hard in the small community of jackson, everyone has their person or keeps to themselves. you prefer to keep to yourself. you don’t necessarily need anyone— not if you can’t have her.

infected that were migrating through had run you out of the gas station, you and jesse dodging branches and heavy rocks throughout the forest as you ran back home. you, of course, tripped over a dead stump and banged your head on nature's floor.

if you were jesse you would have laughed at yourself, but your generous friend could only watch in horror, worry painting his features while he helped you up, practically dragging your stumbling self until you were in the clearing.

every single muscle in your body was aching when you arrived at jackson’s gates, it felt like seeing the gates of heaven itself. you don’t know what time it is, the sky has been dark the entirety of the day, and your head is pounding.

“we should get you to the infirmary, just in case,” jesse tries, however, you are ready to call it a night and worry about your current issues tomorrow. probably a bad idea, sure, but you don’t care that much in the worn out state you’re in. “i’m fine, jesse,” you lie to the man, but the smile you give him is enough for him to back off, “just need a bandage and a very comfortable bed. not one of those cots.”

“you’re stubborn…ellie’s rubbing off on you.”

“shut up,” you jokingly tell him, chewing your bottom lip as your mind goes to ellie. the idea of seeing her sweet face after the day you just had would provide you more comfort than the bed you so desperately yearn for.

to hear her voice, telling you about the day she had, that you know for certain was miles better than yours. and that’s amazing— ellie williams doesn’t deserve a hard day in her life. you would take all of them for her, even if each one felt as cruel as today.

jesse walks you all the way home, an illuminating glow coming from your windows, despite turning the lights off before you had left. or at least, you had thought you did. you say goodbye to jesse, having to promise you will take care of your injury before bed so he would leave.

you open your door with a deep sigh of relief, eager to shred your backpack and soggy clothes, and slip into something comfortable.

you drag your feet down the hall, stopping in place when your shut bedroom door, swings open before you.

“fuck.”

“ellie?” your brows dip, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at the surprise, “what are you doing?”

“i, uh, well,” she scratches the back of her neck, turning around, waiting for you to follow her into your bedroom. you do, mind drifting to the thought of how unkept you left it earlier, not having time to deal with the laundry at the end of your unmade bed. ellie had seen that; you’re embarrassed.

you gulp, stepping inside the room, and the sight you’re met with confuses you. your bed is made. your clothes are gone. instead, there’s a beige teddy bear, one that’s unfamiliar to you, that’s never been in your room before. it’s undeniably cute, even with its left ear ripped and its eye poorly patched back on.

laid against its belly is a large and flat square object wrapped in old newspapers, tiny pieces of duct tape holding it together. where a classic and beautiful ribbon would be, are shoelaces, making a bow. or an attempt at one.

and laid against that, is what appears to be a doodled on piece of paper. you glance at ellie, then your bed, then ellie.

“i…” she begins, the soft expression on her face suddenly hardening when her eyes trail to the single droplet of blood falling from your temple, and down the side of your face.

“what the fuck happened?” ellie takes a few short steps towards you, grabbing your face with her coarse hands, and turning you so she can inspect the area. even when you try to turn your head, she keeps you still.

“gonna tell maria to pair us. i love jesse but—”

“i tripped, ellie, it couldn’t have been prevented,” you cut her off, but her suggestion does make your heart flutter, and you wouldn’t be opposed to it. you’d spend every last second you have in this universe with her.

“you don’t know that,” ellie says, the woman thinking she could do anything to protect you— even simple mistakes you cause yourself. she exits the room for a moment, and you can’t help but walk to the foot of your bed to get a closer look at the objects on it.

you pick up the paper, realizing it’s not just a piece of paper, it’s a card. a makeshift one. and the doodles aren’t just doodles, it’s a dinosaur holding three balloons. three of your favorite colors. happy birthday, it says. birthday…your birthday…it’s your birthday.

it had not crossed your mind once today, this week, or this month. you only thought about it a couple of months back when it was briefly brought up in a conversation. how the community you were born into utilized calendars even if there was nothing to look forward to anymore, and how you almost wish you weren’t informed on the day you were born. there was nothing to celebrate, no one to celebrate with.

ellie was determined to change that, and she did.

you open the card, a paragraph in the center of the paper.

hey y/n, guess what day it is :) if you couldn’t tell by the extremely beautiful dinosaur in a party hat, it’s your day!! happy fucking birthday, y/n. probably doesn’t feel like much of a celebration today. little do you know i celebrate you everyday. don’t tell anyone that. i honestly think i’d die without you so never leave me, yeah? i love you y/n. i could take up this whole page telling you every little thing i love about you but i’m not going to do that because i don't think i could stop. i hope you had a good birthday. if not i hope this helps. love, your ellie.

“sit down,” ellie reenters the room, not noticing the card in your hand, too focused on the medical supplies in hers. when she does, her face heats up, her pale face flashing red. you continue to hold it as you obey her, sitting next to the teddy bear. she waits for you to speak first, and you do the same to her, which causes a moment of silence as she kneels on the floor before you.

you’re taken back, utterly shocked by how fucking precious the girl could be, how good it feels receiving appreciation from her. getting love from her. not the love you have for jesse or dina, something different, something incomparable. she has your heart clutched tightly in her fist.

“thank you, ellie.”

“it’s nothing,” she shrugs, pouring a bottle of water on a bathroom towel, then bringing it to your face. she’s gentle as she wipes the dark red liquid away, dabbing the injury, scanning your face for discomfort so she can stop immediately. she’s definitely going to yell at jesse.

“it’s something,” you tell her, “and it means a lot to me…it really does.”

she halts her movements for a second, the embarrassment that maybe she did too much, vanishing from her body. “yeah?”

“duh,” you laugh slightly, “i didn’t even remember it, ellie. i was too busy having a shitty day. so thank you for making it better.”

ellie smiles slightly, holding back the grin threatening to spread across her face. she continues to clean your injury, knowing she could scold you for not seeking medical attention right away, but she won’t ruin the moment.

she finishes up by placing a clean bandage over the wound, pressing it delicately against your skin, an odd urge to place a kiss on your forehead to signal she was done. she thinks it’s weird, and doesn’t do it.

ellie reaches for the newspaper-wrapped object beside you, taking the card from your hands and replacing it with the gift. “open it.”

“you didn’t have to—” “open it.”

you groan, doing as told, fighting the annoying strong duct tape and peeling the paper off carefully, not knowing what’s beneath it. ellie keeps her green irises steady on your face as you do so, watching your mouth part faintly when you see the uncovered gift. “ellie…”

it’s a vinyl. an old one. one you’d listen to on a cassette tape until it deteriorated, and you had lost access to the heavenly vocals of the band you so greatly adored. ellie’s not familiar with them, but she had told you she would like to be after how highly you had spoken about them.

she hadn’t forgotten that conversation, or that band, and excused herself on patrol to seek out the damn vinyl in every music shop. she didn’t know it would be so hard, but even if she did, she would search again and again and again. it’s not only a gift, it is a reflection of ellie’s admiration of you.

“how— why— i don’t even have a record player,” you point out, eyebrows dipping slightly at the harsh reminder. “so?” she asks like you just said the silliest thing in the world. “i do…we can listen to it together.”

it’s then that you notice her hand on your knee, thumb grazing through the denim of your jeans in a repeated motion. you forget about the throbbing in your head, and you no longer care about the soreness of your body. that, along with the entire world, seems to fade away right now.

it’s not just your heart in her hands. it’s you, your mind, your soul, everything you have is in her palms. everything she tells you makes you feel weightless, like time pauses and you don’t have to worry about a single thing. just her. nothing else. just ellie. no one else.

“i love you.”

ellie smiles, “love you too.”

“no, ellie, i…” you hesitate, sucking in the air and then exhaling. your eyes are on the birthday card next to you, the vinyl in your hands, and then her widened pupils. you realize then, that you don’t need to repeat yourself, you don’t need to emphasize it. ellie gets it. your hands are trembling, and she holds them. but something is wrong.

the moment stretches on endlessly, watching a shadow of sadness flicker over her beautiful features. without her saying a word, that she has yet to do, you understand. she won’t say it back. not in the sense that you wish for her to.

“i…dina came to me…after her and jesse…she…” ellie’s quiet voice drifts off, sparing you the details of the night dina first showed up at her door, a repeated pattern until they finally shared an intimate moment that led to a short-lived kiss.

something you missed, because you weren’t searching for hints they had something. something you crave. her head is down, “i’m sorry.”

your confession now hangs heavy over both of you. you feel sick. you feel dumb. and yet, you force a small, understanding smile. “it’s okay.”

the words feel hollow. ellie feels like shit. she’s never cried in front of you, and she’s fighting back the tears that so desperately want to fall right now. she hadn’t meant for this to happen. she hadn’t met to fall in love with her best friend, all while her other friend was falling for her.

she could’ve waited— she would’ve waited. but it happened so fast, and ellie had made a decision already.

“i’m um…really tired,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension, but it somehow makes it worse.

“y/n—” “do you mind if we call it a night?”

“you hit your head pretty bad,” ellie says, the sorrow tone of her voice now mixing with worry, “you should stay up.”

“you’re not my doctor, ellie,” you immediately catch the snappy tone you give her the moment the sentence leaves your mouth, biting your tongue in response. ellie doesn’t point it out nor make an argument out of it. she is the most understanding with you. even if the context is her simply looking out for you. you fold in your lips, still holding the gift, ellie finally standing up.

she doesn’t know what to say. at all. she could say sorry a million times but eventually they will mean nothing to you. she doesn’t even know if they do now. “i uh…i’ll leave you alone.”

the worst words you could ever hear from the person you love the most in the world. of course, part of you wants her out of sight after the humiliation you just walked yourself into, but the other part of you wants to go with her, play the vinyl she had gifted you, and lay together in her bed as her finger taps in rhythm to the music on your thigh. but you can’t do that. not when her bed is reserved for someone else.

you barely nod, “okay.”

she gulps, hesitantly walking to your bedroom door, the one she was so happy to walk into just an hour prior. there’s guilt in each step she takes, her cheeks hot and mouth dry. she stops in your doorway, tugging at her bottom lip with her sharp teeth, glancing back at you.

whatever she was prepared to say, dies on her tongue, swallowing it down and opting for something else.

“happy birthday, y/n.”

then she’s gone. and you’re left alone with a teddy bear; a permanent reminder of this night. happy birthday to you.

[janovavalen]

✧when social media calls so does the questions || walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: after fans have created more and more of a scene with y/n l/n and walker scobell they are asked about it in their first interview together.

warning: friendly reminder the people/faces i use are just for the aesthetic ofc imagine it’s you bc we’re on that level of delulu<3

as they day went by y/n sat in her hotel room with her dressers, makeup and nail artist all around . this was probably one thing y/n enjoyed about being who she was and doing what she did.

she got to say there while people made her look pretty at the amazing work they did on her. however, though some of the dresses and suits she had to wear were sometimes out of the ordinary or just tight in general, they always made sure to capture her natural color and make her outfits look beautiful on her.

today y/n would be getting interviewed after she got ready—so was aryan, leah and walker of course. she was beyond nervous, exited? but definitely mostly nervous. she hated when she had to sit in front of a camera—well, it came more naturally when she was acting because she wasn’t really being herself.

but when it came to being interviewed, she was half of the time being told what to say, monitored at all times and some other genuine answers were cut out. she guessed it would probably be more dramatic for the audience and the interviewer.

‘miss. l/n, your being called’ one of her managers called out to her as she was just getting her last piece of clothing on.

‘oh—okay!’ she called back. as her stylist got her finished up and ready she smiled and thanked everyone who gave her a huge smile back while they waved her goodbye.

but before she could leave, she obviously had to take some pictures.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

the second y/n stepped out of her hotel room was as if on the sam strike as the rest of her friends. aryan, leah and walker came out of their separate room with their outfits on.

leah wore a beautiful dress and her afro, aryan wore a simple green shirt and black pants and walker wearing a black jacket with dark blue jeans.

‘okay why is it only me and leah going all out for these outfits?’ y/n placed her hands out motioning to the fact the boys were dressed as if they were going out on a casual walk and y/n and leah to the met gala.

‘well…talk to my styalist with that because i can’t give you an answer’ aryan commented with a smile as y/n laughed a bit. holding her phone in her hand along with her purse.

walker had subconsciously found himself waiting for her to walk beside him which didn’t go unnoticed by aryan and leah.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group walked outside was then the lights began flashing in a hurry. the dark sky around them already causing enough ruckus to other people trying to sleep in the hotel, y/n and the group has stopped to give the crowd what they want.

their pictures.

as they did y/n and walker stood arm to arm. him holding the back of his hand along the back half of her back.

while they smiled, waved, posed and did some silly things out of habit. they finally seen their car was ready, signaling it was time to go, so they all began to walk.

but as y/n did she had felt her shoe get caught on something causing her to stop for a second, walker behind somehow able to feel her presence stopped immediately and looked down to her shoe.

‘oh—wait i got it it’s okay—‘

‘no wait let me help’ walker pulled back and leaned down on his knee to see her heel was stuck on the vent of the ground outside. once he got it out someone yelled—‘it’s like a real life cinderella story!’ causing the crowed to awh and flash their cameras faster.

y/n placed her hand over her mouth and nervously laughed as did walker who placed his hand back against her back and let it hold there as they walked.

when they got in the car they immediately sighed of relief from the outside media not being able to get as good pictures but still tired of course.

‘i don’t think ill ever get over this—the lights might be the cause of me going blind to be honest’ leah mumbled while holding her head in her hands, enjoying the heat of the car in this time of day which was a bit cold outside.

‘yeah, i think we should i hide all night and only take pictures in the day or something so they don’t use pictures’

‘that just gives me even more the reason to stay home, so i’m going along with that plan’ y/n smiled at aryan who laughed.

as they drove to their destination, they all had to take pictures and of course videos for their spam’s and personal cameras rolls for memory’s.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived to their interview destination, the four of them sat in their chairs.

leah and y/n sat next to each other. walker and scobell seated next to each other—so the order being leah, y/n, walker, and aryan.

‘okay, are you guys ready?’ the interviewer asked with a warm smile, they all nodded their heads and y/n gave a nervous thumbs up as she smiled making walker laugh.

‘okay, we’re on in—3,2,1–‘

looking a bit over at the camera pointed towards her she started—‘hello my name is racheal james and i am here with—‘

‘leah jeffries’ she smiled

‘y/n l/n’ she nervously twisted with her hands—

‘walker scobell’ who gave a smile and soon—‘aryan simhardi’ who waved to the camera.

‘hi! hello, welcome hope things went well as you got here?’

‘uh yeah—y’know, paparazzi, yelling, lights—it went amazing’ walker looked at the racheal who laughed, y/n smiled a bit while she touched a bit of her face as leah and aryan laughed a bit.

‘as usual, as usual—so! i have been dying to ask, how did you guys all get along when you were casted for percy jackson?’

‘uhm, we did pretty good? i mean i came in a bit late since my character doesn’t show up till episode four so i got a bit more time to pack at home but y’know, i think i get along with them amazingly’

‘yeah—i mean, when we all met y/n she was very warm and an inviting person, every funny and so energetic i just love her presence’ walker told while looking at y/n who warmly smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

‘okay! the two of them!? i can’t! they always do this! it’s constant—‘ leah pointed at the two as she yelled and laughed making y/n and walker nervously laugh.

‘that’s what i was going to say! is it always like that?’ racheal smiled at them.

‘oh my—yes! all the time. on set, at dinner, hang outs—anywhere!’ aryan commented while y/n shook her head with a eye roll and walked just smiled, his face red.

‘okay but wait—so, as you all know, the comments on instagram are going insane over walker and y/n i wanted to ask how do you two feel about it? is it uncomfortable? is it truth or just fans being fans?’

‘uhm….i wouldn’t call them fans just more of very distant friends and family? but im not uncomfortable with it all all—‘

‘yeah no i’m not either, it’s kinda funny and amusing to see everyone piece things together more than some do in the show’ walker shrugged as y/n laughed.

‘ou? so, are you denying or backing up on the rumors that the famous (c/n) and percy jackson may be lovers outside of percy jackson?’

leah immediately looked at aryan who’s eyes snapped to walker and y/n.

the two of them nervously touched their faces while shrugging—‘i—um?’

‘yeah, so…y’know?’ the lot laughed as they watched the two teens nervously try to figure out what to say.

‘okay! i’m sorry i’m sorry to make you uncomfortable! let’s just move onto the next question yeah?’ she smiled while flipping through papers.

y/n placed her hand over her face and sighed deeply to calm herself as for walker who looked at her with a smile and a red warm face.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

about a couple hours later when the interview was done y/n and walker decided to split from the group who had happened to all want to go out to dinner just to hang out.

walker badly wanted to be with y/n but not when she was occupied with the other group, so he pulled her away from the group for a little bit just to talk which y/n didn’t mind in the slightest.

the two of them were standing on the sidewalk as they talked and laughed together.

‘when she asked what was going on in the comments i’m not going to lie i kind of freaked out like i was like—dude what the hell do i say? what do i do?’ walker revealed as he sheepishly moved a bit closer to y/n who did as well.

‘oh my god—same, i was so nervous i didn’t know what i was going to day next to try and recover from that’ she laughed as walker nodded his head in agreement while he placed a small hand on her arm which she didn’t take note of.

after a laugher died down a bit, the two of them stood in a bit of silence as they felt the cold air breeze past them. since y/n wore a outfit that had no jacket, walker had given her his jacket back at the restaurant after seeing cold chills on her arm.

as y/n held her arms with the jacket getting warmer, walker couldn’t held but admire how pretty she looked under the yellow light of the street pole next to them.

‘you looked really pretty’ he smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth to smile widely before placing it back down to her side.

‘thank you…your not too bad yourself’ she teased as he faked a gasp making her laugh. this only prompted him to go after her with his arms around her shoulders as she laughed out loud while he moved their bodies to the side aggressively.

her face being mashed between chest and arm.

‘oh my god! my makeup!’ she cried out with a laugh as he completely ignored her with his own laughter.

once they were done moving he leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek making the both of them grow warm and red. she smiled deeply while placing her arms around his waist. the two of them embracing each other in the dead of night.

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries, aryansimhardi , yourmom and others 

yourinstagram if you guys don’t know…i’m literally terrified of doing almost anything thanks to final destination

view all comments

dior.n.goodjohn dude imagine the cars just blowing up out of nowhere while you guys were driving it…

↳ yourinstagram I WAS IMAGINING THAT THE WHOLE TIME WHILE WALKER JUST LAUGHED LIKE WHATS FUNNY?

↳ walker.scobell IT WAS FUNNY BC U WERE CRYING 😭!?

↳ yourinstagram that was supposed to stay between us.😒

↳ walker.scobell oh. 

iamcharliebushnell that’s insane you thought that while driving the whole time

↳ leahsavajeffries i would’ve just got off at that point 😭

↳ walker.scobell oh trust she tried but i didn’t let her leave me on there alone after i paid for that

user282 AHHH MORE WALKER AND Y/N CONTENT<33333

user200 they’re hand feeding us at this point bc omg😭

user1011 i literally love them sm—DID YALL SEE THOES PAPARAZZI PICS OF THEN CUDDLED UP OUTSIDE???

↳ yourinstagram PAPARAZZI PICS?

walker.scobell

liked by yourinstagram, leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhardi and others

walker.scobell i think y/n enjoys my phone more than her own phone

view all comments

yourinstagram i enjoy your phone bc u have storage 🧍🏽‍♀️

↳ walker.scobell OUUUU so just take all mine? got it got it

↳ yourinstagram DONT ACT FUNNY ON HERE BC U TOLD ME TOO U TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY!?

↳ walker.scobell *gulps*

dior.n.goodjohn LOOK AT MY CHILDRENNNNB OMG

iamcharliebushnell they grow up so fast☹️

↳ walker.scobell why r u guys acting like your nearing your eighties

user111 LOOK AT THEMMMNM OMG GGOGMGMGMGMGM

user1034 they’re cuties

user77 i can’t believe they’re actually together like someone don’t pinch me if this is a dream i don’t wanna wake up from it

↳ yourinstagram awh😭?

↳ walker.scobell okay this is adorable though

walker.scobell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others

walker.scobell no comment

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dior.n.goodjohn GET THHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHH OUT PF HERE OMG

iamcharliebushnell okay but how many times have they hung out without us is the real question

leahsavajeffries alright yall not to much

↳ walker.scobell HUH😭

yourmom i’m so happy you make her happy☺️

↳ walker.scobell awh mrs.l/n

↳ yourinstagram awh mom STOP☹️

yourinstagram that busted up camera ain’t give no promises

↳ walker.scobell that’s what happens when you drop it like thirty times…

user11000 LOOK AT THEM GUYSSSSSS AHHHH

user220 i’m so happy i shipped them the second i saw them on screen together and irl

user1479 the fact they are literally two half’s of a whole is proof soulmates are real

taglist: @callsignwidow

[writeriguess]

Katsuki x fem reader fic where he hates you and you dont know why but then you get badly injured and almost die and suddenly hes worked up about that and when you wake up he finally tells you hes actually in love with you. Please????

The hallways of U.A. High School were a familiar battleground for you, but not for the reasons one might expect. It wasn't the intense training sessions or the rigorous academics that tested your resolve; it was the relentless animosity from none other than Katsuki Bakugo.

Every time you crossed paths with him, you could feel the weight of his glare. It was as if your very presence irritated him to his core. He was harsh, abrasive, and, at times, downright cruel, and you had no idea why.

“Out of my way, (Y/N),” he would snap, shoving past you with an unyielding scowl. It was always like this. You wondered what you had done to earn such hatred from him, but despite everything, you never asked. You figured he was just being Bakugo, and maybe you weren’t worth his time.

But the truth was, it hurt. You admired him—his strength, his determination, his relentless drive to be the best. You could never understand why he treated you so coldly.

Then came that fateful day. The day everything changed.

The training exercise had gone horribly wrong. What was supposed to be a simple mission turned into a nightmare when the villains ambushed your team. In the chaos, you were separated from the others, cornered by one particularly ruthless foe. Despite your best efforts, the fight was too much. The villain's Quirk was deadly, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, bleeding out and slipping into unconsciousness.

In the darkness, you heard a familiar voice shouting your name. It was Bakugo, but there was something in his tone that you had never heard before. Fear.

"(Y/N), stay with me!" His voice was frantic, panicked even. The last thing you saw before everything went black was his face, twisted with an emotion you couldn't quite place.

When you woke up, the sterile smell of the hospital filled your senses. You blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights, disoriented. As your vision cleared, you saw a figure slumped in the chair beside your bed. It was Bakugo, asleep, his head resting on his folded arms. His normally spiky hair was disheveled, and dark circles lined his eyes.

You tried to move, but the pain in your body made you wince. The small noise was enough to wake him. His eyes snapped open, and when he saw you awake, relief flooded his expression, followed quickly by a scowl.

"You're finally awake, idiot," he muttered, his voice rough.

You blinked at him, confused. "Bakugo? What are you…?"

"You almost died, dumbass," he cut you off, his voice trembling slightly. "You were reckless, and you almost—" He stopped, gritting his teeth as if the words were physically painful to say.

You had never seen him like this. Vulnerable. It was jarring.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Bakugo stared at you for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice low and serious. "Do you have any idea what that did to me? Seeing you like that?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the raw emotion in his tone. "Why do you care?" you asked quietly. "You've always acted like you hated me."

He looked away, fists clenching at his sides. "Because I'm an idiot," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I pushed you away, it would make it easier… but it didn't."

"Easier?" you echoed, not understanding.

Bakugo met your gaze, his eyes burning with intensity. "I don't hate you, (Y/N). I… I love you, damn it."

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings. Your breath caught in your throat, your mind reeling.

"You… what?" you managed to choke out.

"I love you," he repeated, the words rough but sincere. "And seeing you almost die… it scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t… I can’t lose you."

For a moment, you could only stare at him, stunned by the revelation. Then, despite the pain in your body, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. His grip was strong, almost desperate, as if he was afraid you would slip away if he let go.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised softly.

Bakugo swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. "You better not, or I'll kill you myself," he muttered, though there was no heat behind his words.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time, you saw Bakugo's expression soften. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're mine, (Y/N)," he whispered, his voice fierce and possessive. "I’m not letting you go. Ever."

From that moment on, everything changed. Bakugo was still Bakugo—rough around the edges, fiercely protective, and sometimes a little too intense. But now, you understood the depth of his feelings, and you knew that, despite everything, he cared about you more than he was ever willing to admit.

And as you lay there, his hand still holding yours, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you had fallen for him too.

Requests are open.

[babygorewhore]

Primal

Spencer needs to take out his anger on you after his traumatic experience in prison.

Warnings! Porn no plot! Pussy slapping! Mean Spencer! Dom! Spencer! Sub! Reader! Degrading! Bondage! Unprotected sex! Light fingering! Brief primal play! Sir kink! Crying kink! W.C less than 1k. Requested by my angel @xxbimbobunnyxx

“Spencer? Are you going to come to bed?” You prodded gently as you leaned on the doorway of Spencer’s office. He relentlessly typed away at his computer and only cast you a side glance.

“In a minute.” He mumbled. You looked at the clock.

“Baby…it’s almost three am.” You responded carefully and Spencer snapped his full attention to you.

“I can’t sleep. It’s better I’m here being productive.”

Ever since he got out of prison, Spencer wasn’t the same. Understandably so. You tried your best to support him. Help him cope with the aftermath of the trauma he went through. But it was growing harder and harder to sleep alone. You missed him terribly. It had been a while since you’d been intimate.

“You can’t torture yourself. Please, just try to come to bed, Spencer.” You extend your hand but he narrows his eyes.

“Come to bed or fuck you?”

Your eyes widen at his brass words and your mouth becomes dry as Spencer stands from his desk. His long fingers grasp the strap of your nightgown.

“You have no idea what I want to do to you.” He breathes and leans down. Your eyes drift shut as he nuzzles his face into your neck. Spencer’s lips brush against your collarbone. “But I don’t want to scare you.”

“You couldn’t possibly scare me.” You answer back sternly and he shakes his head. Brown curls tickling your skin.

“The nights I laid there in prison. All I could think about was that sound you make when you cum. It would replay over and over in my head as I imagined making it louder.”

Your nipples harden as Spencer cups the back of your head and stares into your eyes. “Do you think you can handle what I want? You think you can…take it?” His lust filled tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Yes, sir.” You reply and Spencer tugs off his tie. He pushes you backwards, leading you to the shared bedroom and you stumble onto the bed.

“Put your hands up.” He orders softly and you immediately obey. Spencer wraps the tie around your wrists above your head.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” You nod but you feel a harsh slap to your cunt making you squeal. “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, you’re dripping already. Clenching around nothing probably and I haven’t even put anything in you. That’s absolutely pathetic.” Spencer rolls his eyes as you blink away tears from your eyes. “Don’t waste those tears yet, doll.”

You weren’t used to this. Spencer was your sweet, nerd boy who spent his time studying statistics and reading nonfiction. But the dark look in his brown eyes caused your hips to buck as he landed another blow to your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whine as Spencer shoves up your nightgown and revealed your glistening pussy.

“Wet from me slapping your pussy a few times? Spread your legs wider.”

You listen to him and Spencer admires the wetness slipping down your inner thighs. He separates your pussy with his fingers, gathering it and brings it to his lips. He sucks them clean before shoving them in your mouth.

“Taste how desperate you are for me to touch you.” He barks and you gag around his fingers. Spencer yanks them out, tapping your cheek. “Bet you spent a while touching yourself while I was gone but no one can fuck you like I can.” He mounts you, disregarding his pants and boxers. Spencer’s length and girth was impressive. He gave himself a few pumps, the aching red tip making your mouth water. He wraps your legs around his shoulders and shoves into you, your cunt squeezing him tightly.

“Come on, you can do better than that.” Spencer growls and wraps his hand around your neck.

Your eyes widen from his force and drool peeks from the corners of your lips as he makes you keep eye contact. “No one can fuck me like you.” You wheeze.

He shocks you by pulling out of you, his cum leaking onto your exposed stomach. You start crying harder and Spencer reaches up. He unties you, giving your aching cunt another slap.

“Run. Run out of here now.”

You lay there for a few seconds and Spencer gestures.

“I said run. Now!” His raised tone frightens you. He never yells. You scramble up, legs shaking and you quickly move out of the bedroom.

You had no idea what you unlocked in him but as you run to the living room, you feel a strong grip wrap around your hair. You shriek as Spencer’s surprising strength manages to manhandle you onto the couch on your stomach.

“You wanted to get caught didn’t you? That’s why you ran around like a deer.” He hoists up your lower body, your ass up in the air. Spencer shoves inside your pussy for the second time. Cum drips off your stomach onto the sofa as he humps so hard into you, the balance nearly knocks you off.

His brutal pace clouds your vision. “Tell me who owns you.” Spencer wraps his arm around your throat. “Tell me right now or I won’t let you cum.”

“You own me!” You weep and your orgasm overcomes you. You cum all over his dick, giving him extra lube and you let out a pornographic moan that would normally embarrass you.

“God damn, princess. You can’t even wait for permission? I shouldn’t have been so nice to you.” Spencer hauls you off the couch, making you sprawl onto the floor.

He looked fucking insane. His eyes filled with dark desire, mouth trembling with weeks of pent up rage and hate. You were terrified and turned on.

“Crawl back to the bedroom and start thinking about all the days I was your sweet boy. Because you’re not gonna see him for a while.”

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @bimbotrashcan @redhead1180 @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @fear-is-truth @olivia-moo