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#I’m trying a little bit to just feel better and wear clothes I feel comfortable in and stuff before school
lucysweatslove · 1 year
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You would think as a person who recovered from an ED I would learn NOT to weigh myself, like, ever, but of course I keep doing it because curiosity and it only causes distress.
#tw for the tags since it talks about weight#and tw for calories too#mainly because like this should be the lowest point for cycle and hormonal based weight#but somehow I’m up 1.2 lbs from last week#logical me is like yes you had a high salt day yesterday#but then I see the scales BIA basically pegged it all as fat gain#and then I see the whole plot since I’ve had the scale and it says my water weight % hasn’t changed in a range of 20 lbs#I’m trying a little bit to just feel better and wear clothes I feel comfortable in and stuff before school#I thought yeah if I work at it I can be down a little before rural clinic and more before white coat ceremony#but instead compared to 4 weeks ago I’m not even down a pound#I actually did try meticulous counting and weighing for the last two weeks#granted I still refuse to say no to social foods that I can’t be so meticulous about#but I really struggle to see how at my lean mass with how I’ve been eating vast majority of the time HOW even a day could mess it up#like when I’m eating ~1450 calories a day in average with 100g protein how is my weight not changing#especially when I’m lifting 2-4 hours a week and doing cardio for 2-3 hours too#keep in mind I am large rn and I do have decent lean body mass#like if I were to drop to 20% body fat but keep all my lean mass I would still be classified as overweight#so yeah it’s just frustrating#its not so much that I can’t accept my body as it is but that I know I’m being constantly judged on it and I don’t want to deal with that#anyway gonna go cry and consider making breakfast but bring too frustrated to actually cook
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kissitbttr · 11 months
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miguel can’t help it when you’re wearing his clothes
summary: miguel o’hara x f!reader
warning: 18+ stuff but not too overboard
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miguel is trying really hard to concentrate. he really is.
being a superhero and the leader of spider society is not an easy task. sometimes he’d go days without sleeping. you can either find him at his office or the gym doing his daily workouts because that’s the only place he can take his stress out.
days of scanning over reports and the hours he put in to enhance the new spiderman suit should not go to waste. his eyes are tracking back and forth to the amount of papers scatter all over the table. not to mention a kid he has to take care of named ‘miles morales’ added to his list is almost enough to make his brain explode.
but how could he focus on his work when you’re standing five feet away from him? fixing yourself up a small snack in the kitchen with nothing but his t-shirt and his boxers.
his greedy eyes running through your body shamelessly, finding himself getting lost in his thoughts and he has to snap himself out of it a few times otherwise he won’t be able to finish off all the reports that must be done that night.
yet, he can’t help but admire the way your curves are accentuated by his shorts. how your thick thighs and plump ass filling them in instead of it being too big on you. the way your soft cheeks are slightly peeking underneath the grey cotton material,
he grunts a low ‘fuck me’ when he sees you bending over to put the cookies in the oven. are you doing this on purpose?
had enough of the distraction you’re giving, he slams a folder down and turns his attention on you. “mi vida, can you please don’t stand like that?”
“huh?” you cock an eyebrow, confused to what makes this grumpy man scolding you at this hour. “what’d i do?” you crane your neck to look over at him, with a frown look on his handsome features.
“you! ay dios mio you’re making me hard to focus here! i have so much work to do and you’re being a distraction.”
licking off a cookie dough off your finger, you put your hands on your hips. “how am i being distracting?! I’m literally just standing here making cookies!”
“you know what it does to me when you’re wearing my clothes, mami. I can’t control it. please please stand at least ten feet away.”
“oh?” your voice sounds playful. a small smirk graces upon your lips as you tip toe around the counter to get closer to him.
he knows what you’re up to.
shaking his head in disapproval, he put his large hand up and looking away. “para por favor, cariño. i know what you’re about to do and i cannot afford any distractions right now. stay right where you are.”
“hmm, no.” you giggle, walking towards where he is and you can hear him groan slightly. “whatchu doooing?”
he smiles a bit at that. no matter what you do, he can’t get mad at you. it feels like you put a spell on him or something, he can’t work it out. but he doesn’t complain at all.
he’d break jaws and tear down the fucking universe for you.
he admires the way your thighs rub against each other when you walk, jiggling slightly before you manage to sit yourself comfortably beside him. tucking your legs underneath your butt and make your legs look even thicker
miguel lean himself back a little while his fingers go up against your cheek, grazing it ever so softly. his smile grows when you peck him on the lips.
“how you doing, papi?” you ask, removing a strand of hair from his forehead. “are you feeling okay? you’ve been working far too hard lately, I’m worried.”
he sighs in pure bliss when you run your fingers softly underneath his scalp. feeling himself melt away against your touch.
“always better when you’re around me, mi amor. but you know you can’t be wearing that anymore when I’m working.”
he has to hold back the urge to pick you up and fuck you against the wall when you pout at him.
“you like seeing me in your clothes”
“que sí, baby. but your ass is distracting me far too much in that when I’m working, you know how i get when i see you wearing my boxers. I can’t contain it.” he responds, large hand coming up to rub your exposed thigh, finger toying with the loose hem of his shorts,
“theeen, maybe it’s a sign you should take a break” you suggest, tilting your head lightly. “come play with me, miggy,”
he swears he almost cum right there and then when you say it.
“i will, baby. i promise. but i gotta finish this first, yeah?” his eyes bore into yours as he promises. he wants so badly to leave his work but he knows he can’t. not right now.
with a small huff, you nod. “fine. I’ll wait.”
“good girl.” he leans forward to kiss you again on the lips. “just a few more minutes, yeah?”
“yeah yeah.” you say, “don’t forget to eat. please don’t skip it this time. dinner is on the table, I’ve prepared it for you. also there’s some leftover brownies for dessert if you want it, papi.”
“what do you mean? I’m looking at my full course meal right now, cariño.”
you roll your eyes playfully, blushing a bit as you smile at him. he’s giving you that infamous smirk of his with his eyebrow raising. showing you he’s not playing when he says that,
“aish. such a sweet talker you are. be quick baby” you shake your head, standing up from the couch before heading to the bedroom with your fingers fixing down his shorts to cover it more. your ass moves from side to side as he watches.
god, he fucking loves to see you walk away.
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a/n: i will give him kids enough to create a football team
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otaku553 · 2 months
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Straw hat women redesigns :) I was trying to doodle some of the crew and came to the realization that I just Could Not with Nami so I wanted to play around with it a little bit
Some more design notes below:
Nami’s design actually went a lot smoother for me than Robin’s! I think canon post timeskip Nami is a very low bar. While you can argue that to some extent Nami being vain and seductive is part of her character, I do feel that there are many more integral parts of her character that can be highlighted in her design, namely map making and her combat. Though not one of the stronger straw hats, Nami does seem to be well practiced with her staff outside of its use for weather manipulation, and I think her being a physical combatant, even slightly, can be better reflected with more loose clothing for better mobility.
For her mapmaking, I wanted her to have constant easy access to her tools and to information about the locale, so around her waist she has one large pouch at the back for books and scrolls and maps in progress and one small pouch to the side for writing utensils and measurement tools. As backup she also has 2 pens in her bun, which also act as pins for keeping her hair up if she ever needs to move a lot.
I’m not sure how clearly it shows up in the notes, but Nami’s shoe soles are also made from whatever artificial cloud material makes up the weather island she stayed on during the timeskip, so that it both pads her steps to make them soundless and bounces for better mobility. The shoes are naturally shaped like heels but without the actual heel, since she tends to move around on tiptoes anyways- a nod to her epithet as cat burglar and her past as a thief.
I made her shoulders a bit broader because I think they probably get a lot of exercise with her staff, and changed out the bikini top for a more supportive chest wrap, with a loose tank over it for breathability. The compression socks and sleeve are more stylistic than anything, since I like layers, but they might come in handy for her if she spends extended amounts of time sitting down making maps for the crew.
Robin’s was a bit more difficult for me to figure out, and I might go back and revisit it at some point. For Nami, it was a bit easier to imagine what would pair well with her combat methods and her needs as a mapmaker, but with Robin, she’s an academic who fights almost completely hands off, without a specific weapon to her name. Because her strength lies mostly in her devil fruit, she has a bit more room for style over functionality, but I also still wanted her to have something that made sense with what she was. I don’t really think I succeeded in that regard, but it’s also hard to convey what she does visually— she’s more of like a professor than a field archaeologist I think.
I really really enjoy her cowboy hat but I didn’t think it would match with the rest of the outfit so I switched it out for a wider brimmed hat and kept the orange sunglasses on it, as a nod to the revolutionaries with the combination of headwear and eyewear. She deserves a trench coat. I don’t make the rules. And the rest of the fit mostly came down to things I think I would enjoy wearing, haha
The trench coat is partially a nod to the scholars of ohara, who seem to wear white coats like lab coats in some screenshots of robin’s backstory. I think also the reading glasses help to make her seem a bit more academic, but aren’t prominent enough to leave a strong impression. All in all I do wish robin’s design had more functionality in it but I also think that robin is a character who probably enjoys dressing up nicely like this, especially in the comfort and stability of the straw hats.
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0097linersb · 8 months
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I See Red (m)
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ONE SHOT
Pairings: San x Reader
Genre: Smut (basically pwp)
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: Jealousy, dom!San , he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 
A/N: this was originally an nct jeno's fic but I thought it matched San so well so here u go
Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3
You didn’t know what finally set San off.  
Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone - and in minimal clothing too.
You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.
It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.
So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.
But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Wooyoung (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Seonghwa to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mingi at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Yunho’s shirts - but he was San, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.
It didn’t help when Wooyoung and Mingi asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Mingi playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Wooyoung teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset San and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out - which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for a bit longer than you actually did.
Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Jung Yunho pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.
Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about San’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.
Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Yunho, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”
Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”
You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”
San simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”
“I said- Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”
You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Yunho behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when San lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.
As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.
“San, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”
Damn.
You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and San was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 
Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.
“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”
“Yeah.”
He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”
You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.
“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.
“No.”
“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.
“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.
“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.
Ok, San was mad mad.
His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”
You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. San simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.
Oh, boy.
You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”
And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. San has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant sometimes, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”
“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.
San slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”
You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?
You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and San caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.
It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”
You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.
“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”
He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.
Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”
You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “San, I’m-”
“Only talk when spoken to.”
This new side of San, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. San continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.
You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen San so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.
He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. San didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.
“San, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.
“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.
You cried out at his words.
The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”
Ouch.
You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at San’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn��t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. San simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.
You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. San stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mingi at Yeonjun’s.”
You could see the way San’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”
One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.
Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.
On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.
“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?
He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.
San smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”
You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.
And then it all stopped.
You whined loudly and San simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”
When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”
You groaned and dropped back down, San easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, San didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.
“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”
You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. San said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.
Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “San, I can’t-“
“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.
You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. San’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.
“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”
You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way San was drilling into you and he knew it.
“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.
The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap San gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“N-no.”
“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.
“Only you can fuck me.”
“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”
You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.
“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.
“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.
You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but San was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”
And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.
“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”
You shakily nodded. At this point, if San wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.
“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Seonghwa’s name or see you kissing Wooyoung again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.
“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.
“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”
Your body stiffened, “San, I really can’t-“
“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.
As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.
A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and San caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”
You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way San sped up his movements you figured you were.
“Hands,” San asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.
He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.
“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”
You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.
“Tell me,” San asked.
“A-apple.”
“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.
After another few minutes, San let out a loud moan with a broken whine and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.
You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”
You wanted to scream.
“San, please,” You sobbed.
“What? You’ve been teasing me with Mingi for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”
You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.
“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”
“You said we were almost over,” You wail.
“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”
You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and San’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.
“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.
You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at San in shock, halting your motions.
“Now do it again while looking at me.”
You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into San’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.
“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.
“Stop.”
The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, San. Please. I ca-can’t-“
San silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.
“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.
“Hey baby, it’s ok,” San comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”
He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.
“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.
You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.
“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.
He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. San carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.
“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”
You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and San was proud of you.
You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”
You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?
“Yeah, why?”
“Wooyoung and Mingi are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”
At that you laughed and just let yourself slide down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.
    ____________________________________
“Babe?” You called, watching the way San played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, his chest pressed against your back making your body vibrate, you continued, “What finally set you off?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“
“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Yunho called you baby, only I get to call you that.”
You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Choi San.”
Pt. 2 (a little extra, not a continuation or necessary for the plot)
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verinarin · 4 months
Text
Drunken mind, sober thoughts
fluff | slightly suggestive | Rafayel’s low tolerance towards alcohol has left you in a little bit of a problem, his drunken mind spoke his truest thoughts
a/n this is my first time writing for Rafayel to combat my writer’s block 。゚(゚´Д`゚)゚。, but don’t worry Veritas Ratio lovers I would come bearing gift in the near future, NOT PROOFREAD !
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The night’s at its prime and so does Rafayel, he lavishes himself in fruitless conversation amongst people with different ulterior motives, his lips curves into a mischievous smile as his lips touched the rim of his liquor filled glass
As a result of his carelessness in indulging alcohol as well as his low tolerance, a hue of crimson painted his face. The colour contrasts beautifully with his pale skin, leaving both men and women mesmerised whilst talking towards him
This however does not bode with you, Thomas knew that Rafayel would mindlessly quench his thirst with alcohol that’s why he specifically made a curfew for Rafayel and well the night must come to an end for the charismatic painter
With a sigh leaving your body you leaned down towards his neck, “Rafayel, you have an important interview tomorrow. You need to go home okay ?,” you whisper softly, not wanting to upset the visibly drunk man
With a huff he swiftly finished his glass, he flash an apologetic smile towards his ‘friends’, he quickly stood up from his seat and bid the crowd farewell, you could feel multiple pair of eyes glaring at you silently cursing you from taking Rafayel away from them
“Miss bodyguard, I’m still bored. How do you plan to fix that hmm ?” Rafayel pouts as he try to steady his steps, you let out a small groan before intertwining your fingers with his, letting his weight slightly rest on your body for support, “You can’t even walk straight,”
“Ah that’s true !, but once we’re at the hotel room we could still play something don’t you think ?” he looks down towards you with that trademarked smiles of his
“You need to sleep Rafayel,” you huff as you tap the room’s key onto the censor, you carefully lead Rafayel towards the bed, but with him being stubborn you could only manage to seat him on the couch
“Rafayel you’re flushed red right now, it would be better to sleep now to minimise your hangover in the morning,” you kneel before the man, the soft yellow glow of the moon illuminates his skin, his lips curves into a pout as he defies your order
“Can’t sleep, don’t want to,” he huffs as he fold his arms and look away, you can’t help but to chuckle seeing the man before you acting like a child, “Alright let’s make a deal then,”
“I’m listening,” he turns his head back towards you, your hand reach forward to gently caress his cheek, the skin burns warmly against your nerves, “I would give you a reward you can redeem now, whatever it is you want I’ll give it to you in exchange of you sleeping afterwards,”
“Deal, I want you to sleep beside me, hold me close and keep me safe during the night,” he replies without much thought, it’s like he already has this request at the back of his mind waiting for a chance to come to fruition
It took you a couple of seconds to weigh in the pros and cons, well his request is pretty effective in keeping tabs on him so you simply nodded and with that somehow the man before you gain a foothold of sobriety for just a second to drag his own body towards the bed, “I’m stuffy in this shirt, can you change my clothes please ?,”
In a normal day you would probably hit his head for requesting that but in light of his current predicament and the fact that you’re too tired to argue you simply rummage through his baggage and bring back a pyjama set for him to wear
“Here you go, now I want to change too so I expect you to finish changing once I’m done,” you set the clothes beside him before taking your own fresh clothes and change into a more comfortable clothes, once you exit the bathroom you could only see Rafayel waiting for you like a loss puppy
“Why aren’t you in your pyjamas yet ?,” you sigh before setting down your dirty clothes and walk towards him, “I can’t reach my leg, can’t wear pants,” hearing that you ascertain that this man is dumber than usual becomes there’s no connection between his leg and dragging his pants down
“Well I guess you’re sleeping in that outfit then,” you shrug as you walk away from him, but he prevented you by grasping your wrist, “Please change my clothes for me, I don’t like feeling sticky,” he whines and of course whatever he wants he’ll get
You steel yourself as you kneel down before him and start to slowly unbutton his shirt, you could see his chest heaving up and down as you carefully undress him, “Y’know I feel like your mom, because this is not in my job description,”
“It would be,” Rafayel replies calmly, shutting down your small chuckles. “What do you mean by that ?,” you ask as you drag the shirt off his shoulders
“Well in the future you’ll be my lover so this would also be a reoccurring task,” he smirks as he took his shirt off and bringing the pyjama shirt on to your hand, your merely laugh at his drunken mind not knowing that it’s his sincerest wish
“Yeah yeah I’m sure it’ll be delightful to have you as a boyfriend,” you tease as you button up his shirt, now this part is tricky, his pants. “Can’t you undress your pants by yourself?,”
“What are you shy ?,” he chuckles as he leans down and hold eye contact towards you, “It’s inappropriate for me y’know,” you roll your eyes, hoping that he would not sense your embarrassment
“Why would it be inappropriate ?, you would see what’s underneath it when the time comes,” he winks and with that you quickly stood up, he whines and apologises. He quickly change his pants by himself why you stare at the wall waiting for him and at the same time trying to calm your breath
And with that you’re now laying on the bed with Rafayel resting his head against your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, “So soft and warm,” he mumbles, you can’t help but to find it hard to maintain your composure when there’s a thin line that Rafayel is crossing,
“You didn’t mean what you say, you’ll forget it in the morning,” you huff as you pet his hair, you could feel his displeasure at your sentiment since he nuzzled his face deeper into your chest, not wanting to look at you, “I won’t forget it and even if I do, everything that comes off my mouth is sincere and true,” he mumbles
“Drunken mind is often filled with sober thoughts,”
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unheavenlyvision · 17 days
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SLEEP OVER PT.1
pairing: fushiguro toji/reader
wc: 2.3k
summary: staying the night at your boyfriends place for the first time is nervewracking, especially when he seems to feel a certain way about you wearing his clothes
a/n; dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf...uhm anyways...i lurv toji a lot and i needed to write something for him, i thought it would fix me but it may have made me worse :D also, i would like to write a part 2 for this maybe :3
warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, tiny bit of possessiveness, (minor) size difference kink, heavy petting, dry humping, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, nicknames used; doll, ma'am (once in a joking way)
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
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Hovering in Toji’s kitchen, you try to make yourself seem more relaxed, you’ve been in his house plenty of times now but this time is different. This is the first time you’re staying the night, alone, in his house, with him.
Besides heavy petting, nothing more has ever happened between the two of you, to say you have expectations is an understatement. It doesn’t have to happen but you’ve been together for a little bit now and there’s only so long you can hold out, you mean, have you seen Toji?
He’s been patient, you were initially the one who said you didn’t want to rush things, you were scared of just being a lay and asked him to wait until you felt ready, which he has respected. He’s respected it…too well, barely making out before he’s parting from you. The sexual frustration you’ve been feeling has you wound so tight that you might literally implode as soon as he touches you.
From across the counter separating you, he teases, “You gonna help me over here? Or did you propose baking together just to watch me do it for you?”
“Well… I am enjoying the view,” you flirt back, playing off the stiffness in your joints.
He raises a brow at you, “How about you flirt with me while whisking that bowl right there,” he nods down to the bowl just off to his side.
“Yessir,” you stand at attention and throw a little salute his way.
When you round the bench to stand next to him, he bumps into your shoulder with his own, “You feeling okay, doll?”
You hum and look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good.”
It’s mostly quiet after that, aside from small talk and teasing remarks made while you finish prepping the ingredients. You told him that sleepovers needed brownies and he went out and bought stuff to make them, it was incredibly sweet and made you almost swoon on the spot when you showed up and he told you what he’d done.
Unluckily for you and your clumsy nature, his sink sprays a bunch of water down your front as you’re washing a dish. You let out an unceremonious squeaking sound at the sudden rush of cold running all the way down your pyjama shirt, to your pants.
The bowl Toji was holding clatters a bit as he drops it to be at your side, “What happened?” He asks before seeing your drenched clothes, an amused smile taking place where his concern was sitting, “You’re not much help in the kitchen, huh?”
“Hey!” you frown at him, “I am perfectly helpful, thank you very much. It’s not my fault your sink hates me.” You feel like a wet cat under his gaze, “What am I meant to do now? These are the only pyjamas I bought with me,” you pout slightly, looking down at your ruined clothes.
“Just wear something of mine,” he shrugs easily.
The idea of wearing his comfortable clothes makes your skin buzz, “Okay… thank you,” you mumble at him.
He scoffs at your sudden coyness, “You want me to pick something out for you or do you got it?”
“No, I got it,” you smile at him before turning to wander through the house to his room.
Shuffling through his drawers, you find a shirt and some sweatpants to wear. They’re large on you, the whole look incredibly baggy, having to pull the drawstrings on his sweats a bit tighter to make sure they stay up. You feel better though, warm, you hope he won’t mind but you had to borrow a pair of his boxers as well…
When you walk back into the kitchen, Toji does a double take on you, his eyes widening slightly, “You comfy?”
“Very,” you walk up to him, “You finish with the brownie mix?”
He stares at you for a moment before replying, “…Yeah, they’re in the oven.”
“Nice, putting the mix in the tray is my least favourite part, it’s always so sticky and messy and I end up getting frustrated because it won’t all go in and then I need another spoon to get the mix off the spatula and then I have to go back and forth…” You trail off, noticing he’s not really paying attention to what you’re saying, he is looking at you though, “Toji, Something wrong?”
He considers you for a moment, “You look cute,” is all he says.
You feel shy under his gaze now, not expecting him to compliment you so sincerely, “So do you?”
He barks a laugh at your clumsy compliment, “Alright, wanna watch something while we wait?” He changes the topic.
“Sure!”
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is, his hand rests on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles but just because he’s not subtle doesn’t mean it’s not working. The tv plays some movie in front of the pair of you but you can’t pay attention, you’ve not retained a single plot point, his warm hand on your thigh is all you can feel, all you can register.
You have a feeling you’re going to have to be the one to break this, the weird limbo you’re both in. Turning your head to the side and looking up, you aren’t ready for how he’s already looking down at you, his hand on your thigh reaches for the side of your face, cradling you gently. He moves in slowly, giving you the chance to pull back in protest if you don’t want him to kiss you.
You want it though and lean up the rest of the way, kissing him deeply, wanting to put your lips on him for nearly the whole time you’ve been here. He meets your eagerness, his hand holding you more firmly, his tongue licking into your mouth, wanting to taste you. His body moves into yours more, his other hand grabbing at your hip.
His kisses grow rushed and he ends up trailing them to your neck, kissing and licking along the exposed skin there. The hand on your face angles you to his will, manoeuvring you every which way so he can get his lips on whatever part of you he desires.
Huffed out whine leave you at the way he nips at your skin, he has enough of the odd angle and pulls you onto his lap completely, sitting back as his hands roam your body over his clothes.
“Toji,” you whine out his name.
His eyes look into yours, “Do you need me to stop?”
Shaking your head at him, you say, “No, I need more…”
“You really do look cute in my clothes,” he murmurs, leaning in again and pressing a full kiss to your lips, “You look comfortable… all wrapped up in my clothes.” He reiterates that they are in fact his clothes you’re wearing.
His hands move under the large shirt, groping at your bare skin, delighting in the warmth and plushness of you. Your body breaks out in goose bumps as a noticeable shiver runs down your spine, his touch electrifying to you.
“My, how sensitive you are,” he teases you, a self-satisfied grin making its way onto his face.
“Shut up,” you snark back, “Just… kiss me again?”
His smile grows, “Yes ma’am,” he jokes before kissing you again.
You’re getting lost in it, in the feel of his lips on yours, it’s making you dizzy and needy. Your hips grind down into his on their own accord and Toji moans against you, surprised by the sudden friction. Recovering quickly, his hands grab your hips and encourage you to keep going, your clothed cunt dragging up and down his covered cock has spots in your vision.
Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt tight, your lips disconnecting from his every time you moan, only for him to press them back together. His dick twitches in his pants, painfully erect and sensitive, he has a feeling he could cum like this.
This is the furthest the two of you have gone so far and he’s not wasting this opportunity, he needs to see you cum, he needs to hear it. The grip he has on you is harsh, his hips rut up into yours which results in the most pathetic sound he’s ever heard coming from you… he needs more.  
Pulling back, you whinge, “Toji~ I wan– t more… I want more.”
“Well… I want you to cum while wearing my clothes,” he counters.
You gasp at his blunt words, “I–”
You don’t get the chance to finish your thought, his hips thrusting up, the shock delicious. His dick is leaking profusely in his pants, he’s way too sensitive right now, for his grown age. You’d asked to go slow and he complied but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to furiously jerk himself off after your visits.
Toji’s boxers are uncomfortably wet against your core, slick and stuck to your pussy with how worked up he’s gotten you. All the layers are upsetting you; you just want one less layer, his pants, your pants, you don’t care, you just need more.
“Toji, lemme take off the sweats, please, please, please,” you all but beg at him.
“No. Told you,” he scolds, “I want you cumming in my clothes.”
“Mmm but…” You hesitate.
You’ve caught his interest, quirking a brow at you, he asks, “But what?”
You decide to tell him even though you’re a little embarrassed, “I’m also wearing your boxers.”
He holds you still against him, a sound of objection coming from you at the lack of friction, “You’re wearing my boxers?”
You nod quickly, hoping for this line of questioning to be done soon, “I am.”
“Why?”
You look down, to where you’re sat on top of him, his large cock strained against his pants, you falter slightly in your answer, distracted. Toji’s hand tapping against your thigh brings you back, “Mine were wet from the sink…”
He tugs at the sweats, “Take these off, right now.”
Standing on wobbly legs, you undo the drawstring on his pants and slip them down.
Toji groans at the sight of your bare legs, “Lift up my shirt,” he directs.
Which you do, biting your lip, trying to fight off the urge to run away in embarrassment. Your hands hold his shirt up slightly, exposing to him how you’re wearing his boxers.
His eyes scan your lower half carefully, his heart stuttering in is chest. His light grey boxers dark where your arousal has pooled, “Fuck, come here,” he pats his lap, grabbing you when you’re close enough. “You’re so fucking wet, doll, shit.”
When you’re back on his lap, he wastes no time, his cock rubs between your folds, parting them from under his boxers, the friction different and consuming. This feels so much better than before, it feels almost intense after getting minimal sensation.
“Toji~ I don’t think I’ll last long like this,” you admit, feeling shame from how pathetic you must seem.
“Good,” he groans, his hips thrusting up into yours while his hands drag you back and forth on his cock, “I won’t either.”
To hear he’s just as effected by this as you are makes your cunt pulse around nothing, a whimper leaving you from how pathetically empty you feel, “I still want more,” you pout.
“Later,” he promises.
Your skin buzzes and your stomach clenches, your fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling impossibly close to finishing. Your eyes grow dazed, hot, huffed breaths leaving your parted lips. The sight has Toji’s cock twitching profusely, barely fighting off his orgasm, wanting to see you cum first.
“Come on, doll, I need to see it,” he tugs you quicker, your slick cunt sliding easily against his pants, the wetness seeping through the boxers onto them, “I need to see you cum for me.”
You shudder at his words, “I’m gonna–”
One of his hands leave your hip and slides to your face, his thumb pressing past your lips, you take it and suck on it, tongue licking the pad of it gently. A moan from deep in his chest rumbles under your hands, it’s all too much. Your cunt flutters against him and your eyes roll back, moans muffled around his thumb as your cum gushes from your pussy, coating his boxers even more.
Toji can’t help but watch, he’s watching you so closely, his cock cumming very suddenly. Your orgasm, the dumb look in your eyes, the flutter of your lashes, the shake in your body as you cum in his clothes undoes him. His own cum seeps into his pants, a large, wet stain growing on his sweats as his dick jerks with his orgasm.
He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging your lower lip down with it, “Fuck,” he bites out.
He rides out both your highs, lightly grinding his hips up into you as you both come down. Your form collapses into him, curling yourself around him. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you jolt every now and again, it’s cute, he thinks.
You lay peacefully like this for a moment before you remember, “The brownies,” you try to pull yourself away from him.
“They’re fine, oven went off only a moment ago,” he hums.
“I’ll go grab them then,” you say.
“Alright, shaky, off you go,” he mocks you and your jelly legs.
Pulling back, you frown at him, “I will.”
He just smiles knowingly at you.
Crawling off him carefully, you stand on your shaky legs momentarily before sitting back down on the couch next to him, “Maybe you should go get them.”
“Mhm,” he answers, leaning over he presses a kiss to your cheek, “That’s what I thought.”
You cross your arms over your chest and scowl at him, pretending to be more upset than you actually are.
Toji goes into the kitchen and pulls the brownies out, he calls over to you, “So… I hope you like the corners of your brownies a little crispy.”
You can’t help but laugh at that.
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PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED
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satorusugurugurl · 27 days
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 5,818
Warning: dirty talk, language, making out, wedding duties (lol), oral sex, smutty smut
A/N: Our final part 🥹💚 wow what a journey! There will be an epilogue for our sweet beans next week! Along with the start of the Best Friend!Suguru series.I'm so sorry for the late post, I was so sick yesterday and sleepy from my medication! But better late than never! ! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight
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For two days, two days, you and Satoru spent most of the time in your room. Wrapped up in your sheets, him on top of you, you on top of him. You only separated for the rehearsal dinner and getting your nails done. But the second you were back in his arms, he made up for the lost time like you had been gone for years. His lips were on yours in slow, gentle kisses that became passionate.
Those same kisses would end on the futon, which probably had seen more action in the last forty-eight hours than since the inn opened. Satoru bent you in all different positions, twisting you like a pretzel, stretching you in ways you didn't even know was possible. He made it his goal to make up for the year and a half that you didn’t sleep with anyone. Gojo Satoru turned you into a mess- a withering mess.
“Oooh holy shit.” you cried out, gripping the blanket, “fuuuuck oooh fuck Satoru.”
“Yeah~? Does that feel good~?”
“S-So good~!”
“Mhmm~ good.”
Fingers moved gently, expertly making your back arch, jaw opening in a soft cry of pleasure. Satoru bit his lip, his fingers increasing the pressure against you. Cerulean eyes narrowed, focusing on your face, watching how your eyes rolled back and your face flushed.
“T-Toru~Toru.” Toes curled as you cried softly, eyes watering.
“Oooh yeah~ you gonna cum~?”
Blinking, you lift an eyebrow, watching Satoru wiggle his at you. His fingers are massaging into your sore feet, kneading away knots and easing the aching muscles. Both of you were fully clothed, sitting on the back porch overlooking the gardens. Anyone around would have assumed you both were doing the deed from how loud you were being.
“Oh my god, was I being that loud?”
“What~? No!” You relaxed a little, your feet still in his lap. Thumbs worked at a particularly sore spot, making you whine again. “I’m pretty sure Suguru heard that whine, and he's in Tokyo.”
“Ya’ know what—”
You try pulling your feet away, only to have Satoru yank them back into his lap, inadvertently pulling you closer to him. “Stop, I'm just teasing. Let me do this.” his fingers continue working, moving gently over your feet. “You were in the kitchen all morning, making a three-tier wedding cake. Then those ‘friends’ of yours make you wear heels to take pictures. And you have to wear heels for the wedding tomorrow?” Satoru shook his head, white tufts of hair swaying.
“I offered to bake the cake, the benefit of having a baker as a friend.” His thumbs hit a sore spot, making you jolt. “But the heels are torture.”
“They seem like it.”
A soft, comfortable silence filled with chirping crickets and a distant wind chime grew between you. You just sat there while Satoru rubbed at your sore feet under the blanket of glittering stars. You had one more day together here in Kyoto, then a train ride back home, and you would be back to reality. A reality that had changed drastically over the last week.
When you both retired to your room, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in thought. You had gone from a woman who was quiet, shy, and hell-bent on not needing anyone to this giggly, joyful woman who couldn’t be any happier. Satoru had peeled away at the layers of scar tissue you had hidden yourself in. He brought a certain confidence out in you. Being with him was as easy as breathing; even when you returned home to your mundane lives, you had faith you both would continue to strive forward. To keep your relationship going strong.
Strong as the urge to stay in bed with him all day despite your fellow bridesmaids pounding on your door the next morning. Satoru grumbled in horny frustration; his cock was pressed firmly over your barely clothed core. You pulled your lips away from his neck, pushing your hair back, groaning at the sudden interruption.
“I have to go, Toru.” You pulled off of him, giggling as he threw his head back. “Hey~ don’t be like that; we’ll pick up where we left off tonight.”
“Wedding sex is the best kind of sex. Especially when you’re on a sugar rush.”
You looked over your shoulder at him, grinning ear to ear. “That sounds enticing.” Satoru sat up on his elbows, licking his lips.
“Oh, it’s gonna happen tonight,” Satoru promised with a shake of his head. “I promise you that.”
Another knock at the door, “If you don’t come out! We’re coming in! Regardless of how indecent you two are!” A series of knocks sounded from the other side of the door by several different hands from the sound of it.
”I better go before they knock down the door.” With a pout, you leaned down, kissing Satoru goodbye before heading out. “I’ll see you later!” just before you shut the door to the room, you pouted as Satoru watched, sticking his bottom lip out. “It’s just three hours, babe!”
Three hours flew by before you knew it. The excitement of getting ready for the wedding and seeing your best friend practically buzzing in anticipation fueled everyone's energy. While you were bouncing up and down eagerly waiting to see Satoru in a tailored suit. Just imagining him had you grinning as you stared out the bridal suite window, looking towards the garden decorated for the joyous event.
“So, when are you and Satoru getting married?”
”Eh!?” All of your friends surrounded you, devilish smiles gracing their faces. “I-I—we are not getting married!” At least not yet. “We’ve barely started going out.” Literally. “There’s no indication that we're even considering that!”
“Oh, please!”
“Says the girl that’s been locked in her room with said boyfriend for the last two days!”
Your face burned like a fresh sunburn. “S-So! That does not mean that we’re getting married anytime soon!” All of your friends booed in protest. “Will the whole lot of you stop? Seriously, I don’t want you guys scaring off Satoru!” The bride stepped forward in her gown and all of her glory. “Finally, Mina, will you please talk some sense into them!?” Your best friend looked amongst the other girls, all dressed in a beautiful sky blue. For a moment, you thought she might take your side. But the second a smirk at the corner of her mouth, you knew she didn’t have your back.
“I was going to ask you the same question! The man would’ve fucked you against the wall at the bar no one stopped him!”
“Oh my God!”
“I’m serious! I think I’ll hand you the bouquet when I toss it!”
“Please don’t.”
“Oh, I think I will!”
“We are not getting married—not yet!”
Satoru sat off to the side, right next to your parents, as the wedding started. He watched with wide and sparkling eyes as you walked down the aisle with a groomsman. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the flowing sky-blue dress looked stunning on your figure and complimented your skin tone. His mouth felt suddenly dry as you looked at him, giving him a gentle, sweet smile. Cupid himself must have shot him through the heart at that moment because fuck, he was falling so hard for you.
“Ma’am—“ he learned next to your mother's ear, “just so you know, the next wedding we host here will be ours.”
“Huh?!”
Her reaction didn’t even seem to faze him. All he cared about was standing near the front of an outdoor arch decor with flowers of different colors—a gentle breeze brushed by you, making your hair and the dress flow. Even when the bride made her grand entrance, everyone turned to see her walking down the aisle towards her future husband. Satoru had his eyes locked on you.
You could feel his eyes, and that burning sensation had your focus transfixed on him. Was it wrong to be looking at your wedding date instead of the bride-to-be? The chances of that were very likely. But how could you not stare back? When his eyes burned holes into your very soul and left your heart racing like you had just run a marathon. It was impossible to pay attention to anyone else.
He was so handsome. Satoru was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched your dress. His navy blue jacket and pants were tailored to his body perfectly. You could tell by its appearance that it was expensive. It was probably more expensive than your best friend's wedding dress. You wanted to rip it off of him and let him take you right there in the garden.
Yes, he was extremely good-looking. But it wasn’t his clothes or his appearance or the fact that he had money that made you so attracted to him at that moment. The way he looked at you, eyes trailing over your body, with a soft grin, told you everything you needed to know. Satoru truly cared for you. This wasn’t just about sex, and it wasn’t the magic of the wedding to be. Chemistry, connection, and attraction were one hundred percent genuine.
After exchanging vows and rings, hundreds of pictures were taken with everyone. You were finally free from your wedding duties. The first thing you did as soon as you broke away from the rest of the group was run to Satoru’s side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his chest. Lips pressed against the temple of your head, and you could’ve sworn he let out a little sigh of happiness to have you back in his arms.
“You look so fucking beautiful.” He cupped a strand of hair behind your ear before gently reaching down, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Is it wrong for me to say you’re even more beautiful than the bride?”
“Satoru!” you playfully punched at his shoulder, “I am not.”
“Oh, you are; that’s a god-given fact, sweetheart.” His thumbs brushed ever so lovingly over your cheek. “But there’s just one thing I would change about the outfit.”
“You and me both.” You winced, moving your arm away from the scratchy sequins top. “This material is an absolute nightmare for my underarms. I’m serious. You’ll probably have to put lotion on them for me later.”
“Oh.” Satoru deadpans. “ I wasn’t talking about the material.”
You hum in thought, looking over the dress for any flaws he may have noticed. “Oh?” When you didn’t find anything else wrong with the dress in your eyes, you tilted your head, looking up at Satoru. “Well, what would you change about it then?” His hand gently pulled your face closer to his own; he leaned down, the fresh smell of minty lemonade coaxing your nostrils.
“I’d change the color.”
“Wait, what?”
Your date says nothing for a beat of silence. “So anyways! Let’s grab our seats; I’ll get you one of the cocktails!”
He rambles on while you’re still stuck on how he would change the color of your dress. Surely, he meant he would do a different shade or maybe red instead of blue; there’s no possible way that he was talking about it to white. Yeah, he didn’t mean that at all! Your friends just put the stupid notion in your head that you guys are going to get married next. You didn’t even know what the two of you were yet. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship.
What you did know was that Satoru wanted to make your relationship work. So you knew for sure that you weren’t just another fuck buddy or client. This went deeper than that. What you both had was real, which was a lot more than other couples had. So who knew, maybe your friends were right? Perhaps Satoru had thought that white would make your dress look one million times better.
These were questions and answers for another day. You weren’t going to rush into things. Both of you wanted to take your time and get to know one another.
And you learned a lot of things about him as the party began. Like how he despised the taste of alcohol, he had mentioned it in passing when he walked you to the bachelorette party. But when he accidentally took a sip of a cocktail unintentionally, not knowing it had alcohol in it, the man sputtered and choked. His hands grabbed a cola from the bartender, chugging it like water. You learned that he was a pretty good dancer. He bumped and ground with you on the dance floor while the music blared. You learned how gentle his hands were as he slowly danced with you to one of the many love songs the DJ played.
He was so tentative to you. He’d always make sure you had a drink of some kind. He insisted that you drink plenty of water to avoid getting drunk. He even went to the room and grabbed your sandals when your high heels bothered you. God, he was everything and then some. If you hadn’t called for each other, he truly would have made this wedding a lot of fun for you. There was no doubt that he was worth every penny you were willing to spend to have a good time.
The party has toned down almost entirely, a few stragglers drunkenly laughing and drinking while others chat while eating the vanilla and raspberry compote cake you had made. Your best friend and her husband are one of two couples on the floor dancing to a slow song. The other was Satoru and the flower girl who had been smitten with his white hair and blue eyes. She was convinced he was Prince charming and begged him to dance with her. Satoru jumped at the opportunity. Gently placing her little feet on top of his shoes as he danced with her to the slow beat of the music.
Your gaze was locked on him as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands. He was so perfect in every way, shape, and form. Satoru had made this one of the best nights of your entire life. God, you don’t think you’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding before. It was all thanks to him that you were having one of the most memorable nights of your life.
Those deep, happy thoughts are cut short when a tiny, chubby hand gently smacks your cheek. The sudden contact has you jumping, nearly spilling the hot coffee over your hands as you turn to see who has smacked you. You’re met with beautiful, big navy-colored eyes—dark tufts of hair spill over the head as the baby gently smacks your cheek again.
“Please don’t hit me, I have my kid.” a familiar voice speaks, “and don’t yell, please.”
You scoff, cocking an eyebrow up at Toji as he sits down in the chair next to you. “Are you seriously using your kid as a human shield?” Your ex shakes his head before looking over his shoulder, searching for someone.
“I cannot confirm nor deny that.” He cradles the babbling baby in his lap. “But if my wife is around, I will deny every word.”
“So you are using your child as a human shield.”
“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”
“What do you want, Toji?”
He cradles his son in one arm, reaching into his suit jacket with his free hand. Toji pulls out a manila envelope and places it in front of you. Gingerly, taking it off the table, you open it and find the money you had left in the kitchen the other day. The money he almost ruined your relationship with Satoru over and the money you’d spent on him
He exhales deeply through his nose before clearing his throat. “What I did was wrong.” His son babbles, chubby little hands pulling the sleeve of his jacket. “I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I broke your heart, not once but twice. You, of all people, don’t deserve to be treated like that.” You cock an eyebrow. “And no, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. For breaking off our engagement the way that I did. For almost sabotaging your relationship with that brat over there.” His head jerks in Satoru’s direction.
“Yeah, you almost fucked that up for me.”
“Well, luckily, you guys worked it out.”
“Yeah, we did.” For the first time all week, you don’t feel the slightest bit of dread being near Toji. Maybe it was because you slapped the shit out of him, or perhaps it was because you felt as though your last confrontation was able to heal your wounds. “He’s a great guy.”
“Great for an escort.”
“Former escort.” You correct him with a smug smile. “Satoru sent in his resignation letter on Thursday after we talked.”
Toji’s eyes went wide before they softened with a gentle gaze that you hadn’t seen since high school. “Well shit, I guess I had him pegged wrong.” Taking another sip of your coffee, you giggle before resting your chin on your fist.
“I thought you said you were the greatest PI.”
“Nah, I’m one of the best.” Toni leans back, and in this light, you can see the slight discoloration on his face from both you and Satoru’s hits the other day. “I’m far from being the greatest. I wasn’t for you, but—“ he pressed his lips against his son’s head. “I’m trying to be a better person for this brat and my wife.”
“You always were an asshole.” Your point-blank statement had him wincing. “But if you hadn’t been an asshole, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. So thanks for being a dick.”
Toji tilts his head, chuckling. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A squealing babble has both you and Toji glancing down at his son. He gently gums at his father’s jacket, drooling over the fabric. Toji sighs and gently lifts the baby to stare at him. When he does, those navy blue eyes glance towards his chest that's straining against the fabric. His son smacks his lips in hunger. “Fuck, I gotta find my wife; the little shits hungry again. And I’d rather not have him gnawing at my pecs.” He stands and pauses before turning his child to face you.
The tiny human gurgles at you, tilting his head. “Uhm, Toji, I can’t feed him.” Your ex rolls his eyes so hard you can almost hear it.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I just—“ he sighs, “this is my son, Fushiguro Megumi.” You can’t help but smile at his name; a blessing.
“Well, hello there, Megumi.” You gently pet his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you; whatever you do, don’t turn out to be like your father.”
Toji barks out a sharp laugh, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” Megumi laughs loudly, smacking his hands against your face.
“Toji!” Both of you turn to see a woman with dark hair waving at him.
“That’s the wife, we’re leaving.” He cradles Megumi into his side ever so gently. “I’m sorry again for all the shit I put you through in the past and well in the last week.”
“Well, all that shit led me to someone pretty great.” Your eyes drift back to Satoru, who's walking the little girl back to her parents. “All those years of putting up with you gave me some good karma.”
“For putting up with me, you deserve the world.” He scoffs hurriedly to join his wife. “Later.”
You wave goodbye to him, returning to your cup just as Satoru joins you. Two plates with cake in his hands. “Was that Toji!?” His ocean eyes meet yours, searching for any sign or tears of frustration. “The hell did he want?” He shoves the sweet cake into his mouth before offering you a bite, which you eagerly take.
“Mhm, he just wanted to give me the money he owed me.”
“What you should have given him was a knuckle sandwich.” Your soft giggle has butterflies swarming inside his stomach.
“I already gave him one, so I’ll gladly take the money this time.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He takes another bite of cake. “It would be a shame for you to bruise those knuckles again.”
You press your body against him, relishing in the warmth. “You know I don’t even care anymore. I got hurt in the past. I wallowed in my self-pity for over a year. But things are starting to look up for me now.” He hummed, turning to press a kiss against your forehead. “All thanks to my—“You hesitate, not sure if you want to be the one to put a label on your relationship.
“Boyfriend.” Satoru finishes for you, making your hearts swell with joy.
“Yes, my boyfriend.”
Satoru takes one last bite of his cake before wiping the mixture of whipped cream and buttercream off with his thumb. “Mmm, I love hearing you say that. It sounds so damn pretty rolling off your tongue.” You grinned, gently gripping his hand on your own, squeezing it as you stood.
“Wanna see what else I can do with my tongue~?”
Without hesitation, your boyfriend stands up from the table, following you down the hall. “Oooh? Is the sugar kicking in?” Satoru quickly takes the lead from you, dragging you down the hall and towards the guest rooms.
“It’s not just the sugar.” You correct him. “It’s you.”
The second you step into the room, and the door is slammed shut, Satoru’s on you, cupping your face, kissing you deeply with a guttural moan. You return the kiss, tasting the sweet, tangy remains of the cake on his tongue that worked its way into your mouth. You’re moaning, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground as you start working on the buttons of his shirt.
While you do that, Satoru runs his hands down your back, searching for a zipper or buttons, only to discover an intricate series of strings. He breaks the kiss, looking down at the saliva connecting your lips before he forces you to turn around so he can start working on the corset holding you hostage. His fingers struggle with the silky strings; he’s far too excited to sit down and take the necessary time to care for this.
“Hey, sweetheart, this isn’t a rental, is it?”
”No, I wish it was; I seriously haye the sequins, Toru.” You huff out, feeling his hands gently grip both sides of the back of the dress.
”So you wouldn’t be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it?”
”No, I guess I woul—“ RIIIP!! “Oh fuck!” You tumble as Satoru uses all of his strength to rip down the back of the dress—the thin fabric pools around your feet before Satoru turns you back to face him. The second you do, he drops to his knees in front of you and kisses down your bare chest, all the way to your lace panties. “S-Satoru~”
“Mmm, I wanna show you what I can do with my tongue.” He states flatly before tugging your panties down. “I get to eat two sweet treats tonight. Your amazing cake and your delicious pussy.”
His tongue instantly slides over your clit, making you grip his hair for support in fear that you are going to buckle over. Your hand grips the soft strands of hair, winning the softest of groans from him. While your fingers run through his hair, only make him move his tongue faster, with the sole purpose of making you cum.
Unfortunately for you, even if you were willing to hold off, Satoru is just too good at what he does. He teases your clit, going between gentle flicks, suckling on it, and writing his name against it with the tip of his tongue. His antics and techniques leave you nearly falling over, wishing you were on the futon. There was something about towering over him, though, bucking your pussy against his willing mouth that gave you a certain sense of empowerment.
You could see why men would like a woman on their knees. It was fun holding all of the power to make Satoru do what you wanted, to keep his face in place with you humping his tongue. You could have cum from just thinking of riding his face like this. Doing it though, fuck, it was so hot.
Satoru thought so, too; his jaw opened wide as he flattened his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you saw fit. His hand gently reached around, grabbing the fat of your ass, encouraging you to move and grind faster against him, wanting for you to cum. His squeezing you had your head falling forward, strands of your kiss-messy hair falling as you came hard, rolling your hips in time with the waves crashing over you. Satoru hummed happily, lapping up the juices you kindly offered him.
“Fuck, oooh fuck Satoru.” Your knees were buckling as he gently peppered hisses down your inner thighs. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”
”Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” He lifted you gently, placing you down on the futon. “I have a perfect place for you to sit.” You watched in awe as your boyfriend stripped out of his clothes and slipped on a condom before standing completely naked in front of you. “Now, what do you say,” Satoru laid down, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. “We pick up where we left off this morning before your friends rudely interrupted us.”
”Mmm, I love the sound of that.” Sitting back ever so slightly, you gently grabbed his cock, easing the thick throbbing tip inside of you. “Ah~ fuck I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thick you are.” You cry out as you slowly begin to slide yourself down his shaft with a whimper.
”And I’ll never get over how tight and warm you are.” Large hands gently grip your hip, holding you as you sit down on him, his cock fully buried inside of you. “God, I can’t wait to feel how wet you are one of these days.” He hisses through his teeth as you slowly begin to rock back and forth on him. “Y-You fuck, sweetie, you feel so fucking good!”
“Yeah, so do you, Toru; I feel you getting bigger inside me.”
“And I can feel you clamping down.”
Knowing that he could feel just how good you were feeling was the only entice you needed to pick up your pace, your gentle rocks becoming a bit faster and harder as you gently began bouncing up and down on him. Your sudden increase in speed had Satoru choking on a raspy whine, his head tilting back as you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. This position was one of your favorites. You were able to watch Satoru’s face contort with pleasure while his cock hit all the right places deep inside of you.
Satoru also loved this position because he got to see how relaxed you were, how he was able to grope your perfect tits, his thumbs brushing gently over your sensitive nipples. But his favorite thing about this position was being able to touch you. Not just your breasts, as great as those were. Running his large palms down your hips and over the top of your thighs, feeling your muscles twitch made happy, satisfied grunts leave his mouth. But it was when you interlace your fingers with his that got his heart pounding.
Your hips were moving faster, harder against him. Your smaller fingers held on to his for support, squeezing them gently as your tiny whines turned into desperate moans as your fucked yourself on him.
”Toru, oooh fuck~”
”Yeah, you close?” His fingers gave yours a gentle squeeze. “You gonna cum? Make me cum with you? I feel it coming back, god, I feel it; you’re going to make me cum so fucking hard.”
”Y-Yeah wanna make you cum, cum with me, Satoru, please I need it, need it so fucking bad.”
Satoru groaned, nodding his head as you slammed yourself up and down on him, his hips bucking up to meet you, fucking the tip of his cock directly into your cervix. You both are moaning so loud you know people will be calling the front desk to file a complaint, but you could care less about all of that. All that mattered right now was you and Satoru.
“Ooooh fuck me.” You cry out, releasing your boa constrictor grip on his hands, digging them into the bedding as you fall forward onto his chest. Your hips bounce up and down faster and harder, skin slapping against skin as your ass slams down. “Satoru, I’m gonna—“
”M-Me too, baby, holy fuck me too!” Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your hips, forcing you to move faster, which seems almost impossible. “Fuck, oooh fuck, fuck shit!” He’s gritting his teeth as you cry out into the side of his neck. “Oh, holy fuckin shit, baby! I’m cumming! Cumming inside you!”
With one final slam, both of your bodies go rigid as the orgasms hit you at the same time. Your pulsating walls have Satoru’s cock throbbing eagerly deep inside of you, filling the condom. Leaving both of you shaking, sweaty messes. Satoru recovers first, his hands gently caressing your sides as you lay all your weight on top of him. While you gently press open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone.
It isn’t until your muscles are protesting the position that you’re in that you finally move. Satoru helps you push off of him gently, laying you down next to his side. His fingers brush some of your hair back before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You kiss him back burying yourself into his chest as his hands gently move up and down your back.
“So, how was our first date?” The gentle tone of Satoru’s voice has you happily humming.
“One of the best dates I ever had in my entire life.”
“Yeah, I have to agree with you on that one.” His hand continued to rub up and down your back gently. “I can’t wait to go on another and another, and god, I just want to go on countless dates with you.” He waits for you to respond, to say anything. When you don’t say a word, he peers down, finding you sleepily snuggled against him. Your hard work from the last few days has finally caught up to you. “Get some sleep.” He whispered, disposing of the condom before pulling the sheet over your body as he shut his eyes, too, following you into a deep sleep.
The next day was a blur at the inn. From packing your bags, checking out, and bidding farewell to your parents before you at Satoru took the train back to Tokyo. Where you both leaned against each other, still tired from the last week and the wedding from the night before. You only fully regain consciousness when the train pulls up to your stop. You grab your bags in silence as you slowly leave the train.
It didn’t feel real that the week was finally over. That tonight would be the first night you would be alone in a week. Part of you dreaded the night you were about to spend alone in your apartment. But you didn’t want to be clingy and ask Satoru to stay the night.
While your relationship had been entirely out of order, you didn’t want to ruin it right when it began. There would be another time for Satoru to spend the night with you. You are almost certain he would love to go home to his apartment and unwind.
So you stopped in front of the coffee shop where you met each other for the first time. Turning around, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder, winning a slightly confused look from your new boyfriend. Swallowing hard, you hugged him tight before pulling back.
“Thank you again for everything.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “I can’t thank you enough. Text me later. Maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner sometime this week. Go on our second date.”
Satoru said nothing for a moment as you fiddled with the handle of your suitcase. “Hey.” He finally broke the silence, his hand gently grabbing yours. “Would now be too soon to take you on our second date?” Light shimmered in your eyes as Satoru put his sunglasses on. “I know this great spot for brunch.” You felt your heart swell as he rubbed at his slightly slushed neck. “I just—I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” Round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his breathtaking eyes. “But if you’re too tired or busy, later this week would be fine, I gue—” You reach up, pressing your index finger gently over his lips, silencing him.
“Brunch sounds great.”
“Great!” Satoru beams gently, interlocking your hands as you make your way up to the surface. “You’re going to love it.” You gently squeezed his hand as you stepped into the bustling streets of Tokyo. A week ago, you never would have thought the man you had hired to be your wedding date would be taking you out on your second date, hopefully leading to many more.
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jaysgirlx · 3 months
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Hey sweetie, I’m feeling like I need a Jason fic where reader doesn’t like to be touched but he makes her feel safe enough that she gets used to him. Would that be something you’d write? I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 😘😘
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jason wasn't exactly a touchy man himself, he'd set a lot of boundaries as he grew older but he felt different when that came to you. he had the urge to want to hold you constantly but he quickly learned you weren't fond of that. there were too many mental scars that had yet to heal.
the two of you had been sitting side by side on his couch and he slyly tried to put his arm around you. you flinched and moved away quickly, and then came the word vomit.
"i'm sorry! it's really not cause of you- It's hard for me to- i just cant- it's okay if you don't want to hang out again after this, i just- i'm sorry!"
you were panting and trying to explain yourself because this wasn't his fault, this was a boundary you probably should've said earlier but you didn't. you were scared of losing jason too quickly because of your own issues but you were an idiot for thinking he'd leave like that. he was much better than that and he showed you exactly how.
when jason first realized that you weren't yet comfortable with him touching you he tried his best to make your dates and hangouts still romantic. instead of cuddling, he'd put pillows in between the two of you and you'd lay on them almost as if you were on him.
or when you two went out for walks he learned to wear long-sleeved shirts so you could hold onto his sleeve rather than his hand. it did take time to get used to but jason didn't see it as a burden he saw it as another way for him to show his love for you.
he found you the cutest when he'd be kissing you and you didn't know where to put your hands so you'd panic and grab onto his clothes. he knew you wanted to touch him but he wanted you to feel safe enough to make that first move and you eventually did.
"i swear it's not you or anything i just not comfortable being touched yet…i've had things happen to me and i just need time to feel a bit safer"
jason understood how you felt and respected it. he'd wait years if he had to, as long as you were with him, he didn't need much more. though your comfortability came much sooner than he thought.
it started off small like when you began to slyly slip your fingers into his and hold his hand. he won't deny that he actually blushed a little especially when you kissed him on the cheek goodnight. he knew he was probably touch-starved but he didn't realize how much he was missing without your touch.
you even started cuddling him during your movie nights and laying your body on his. and it was then that jason knew you felt comfortable with him. you finally felt safe.
things moved on a bit fast after that, your very gentle make-out sessions with jason became rough and needy. you'd dig your nails into his back while deepening each kiss more. your hands are roaming his back, trying to figure out what feels good, or what feels right but jason doesn't care. that fact that you're touching him is all that matters. that fact that you're comfortable is all that matters.
did jason dream of touching you constantly? absolutely! but would he have waited centuries to do so? only for you.
jason was in love with who you were and being able to touch you had nothing to do with that. this man fell in love with your personality and the love you were willing to give him and that was all he wanted.
"m'sorry for making you wait so long jaybird" you whispered while jason lips were busy kissing and biting your neck. he left a train of hickeys, hoping you wouldn't be too mad once you'd seen them, since you were quite focused on your current conversation "i know i'm a lot of work"
"good thing i'm a hard worker sweetheart," he said, while placing a hand on his hip and gently caressing your waist with his thumb. jason had started doing this,whenever he could tell you were overthinking or maybe overwhelmed. he was good with words but he knew how to soothe you "as long as you comfortable baby, then that's all i need"
you were all jason todd needed, he’d never admit it but he could love you from afar and still be happy because you'd be his and to jason that was all that was he really wanted.
for you to happy and safe with him.
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spaceshipellie · 11 months
Text
we were never just friends
ellie williams x reader
summary: modern au, ellie and reader are in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years. their friendship has always been a little bit flirty but nothing has ever happened between them, not like that. well, not yet anyway…
warnings: not much for this part, implied smut (minors dni)
an: there will be more parts coming (potentially 4?) and i have a feeling it’s going to be toxic and messy but have a happy ending (depending on who’s perspective you’re looking at 👀) so sorry but i’m feeling unhinged!
part one (part two, part three, part four)
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you had been friends with ellie for years and your friendship had always been somewhat flirty but nothing had ever happened between you and you didn’t really expect it to at this point.
sure, when you were single, seeing ellie flirt, and kiss, and touch other girls made your stomach twist a bit but that didn’t mean anything, right? she was your best friend and you shouldn’t feel jealous. you always excused your feelings away by telling yourself it was just your anxious attachment talking. if something was going to happen between you and ellie it would have happened by now, and did you even want to risk fucking up your friendship?
whatever it was, it didn’t matter. you and kate had been together for 6 months now and things were good, you were happy.
it was 5:38pm on a friday evening and you and kate had a table booked for dinner at 7pm. you were sat on the floor applying your makeup, music blasting through your speaker, hyping yourself up.
you’d felt a bit lousy lately. nothing major just your clothes felt weird, it felt like you could never get your hair right, that kind of thing. you were excited for a night with your girlfriend, thinking it would make you feel better. your phone flashed beside you with a text.
kate 🩵
6:12pm
can’t wait for tonight baby, i’ll pick you up at 6:45 xx
you replied.
me too, see you soon xx
there were clothes thrown all over your bedroom floor from trying to find something to wear. once you’d settled on something you checked your phone. 6:43pm. kate would be here any minute. you sat on your sofa waiting, getting lost in thought when your apartment intercom buzzed. you buzzed her in and opened the door when you heard a knock.
“you look gorgeous,” kate said, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss.
“thanks, baby. so do you,” you smiled at her. she grabbed your hand and led you to the car. you mostly drove in a comfortable silence to the restaurant as it wasn’t far.
you were now sat at your table, opposite kate, sipping on your wine and enjoying the food. you talked about how your days had been and laughed about random inside jokes you had.
“so,” kate started, “how would you feel about going on holiday together? i was thinking we could go to california or something.”
a wave of excitement came over you.
“oh my god, i’d love to.”
“great, we can have a look and work it out in the next couple of days.” kate beamed at you and put her hand on your knee under the table. you leaned over and kissed her.
after you’d finished dinner you went back to kate’s place. you both kicked your shoes off as soon as you got inside and with giddiness from the holiday proposal and the wine you had drunk, you flung your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a slow, giggly kiss. her hands went to your waist as she held you close, walking you both slowly towards the bedroom. you were pushed up against the door for a second whilst she blindly searched for the handle.
“i love you,” you breathed out.
she smiled against your lips, “i love you too.”
the door opened and you both fell into the room, clumsily making your way towards the bed.
˚ · • . ° .
you were lying on your back in kate’s bed, feeling sweet and sleepy. you were both naked and she was fast sleep, her arm dangling across your stomach. you slowly slipped out, being careful not to wake her as you threw on a large t-shirt and some underwear and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen. the clock said it was nearly 1am and you saw you had a message.
ellie 👽
11:27pm
there’s a band playing at hazy tomorrow night, you free?
hazy was kind of like yours and ellie’s go to bar. it had the coolest decor, it was mostly queer people who went, and they always had good music on. you replied.
12:49am
yeah definitely
you took another sip of water before going back to bed, kate still fast asleep.
you both didn’t wake up until about 10am, groaning and stretching as you did so.
“morning babe,” you heard a soft grumble from behind you. you turned to see her sleepy face looking at you.
“morning,” you smiled, “i’ll make us some coffee.”
you got up and made your way into the kitchen, leaning against the counter whilst the coffee machine did it’s thing.
ellie 👽
9:34am
cool, they’re meant to start playing at 8
what you doing today?
you
10:10am
i’m free this afternoon if you wanna hang out earlier?
you took the coffees back to bed, handing one to kate who had put some clothes on. she thanked you, taking a sip.
ellie 👽
10:14am
i can come over at 3?
you
10:15am
yeah sounds good, see you later
you saw her like your message before you put your phone down, taking a sip of coffee.
“what time are you working again?” you asked kate.
“12, so need to get ready soon,” she drew small, lazy circles on your bare thigh as you sat cross legged next to her. “you doing much today?”
“i’m gonna go home and tidy up a bit, then ellie’s coming over. there’s a band playing at hazy tonight so we thought we’d go.”
“oh nice, sounds like a good day,” she said, smiling at you.
you finished your coffees and you scrolled through tiktok as you watched kate get ready for work, before eventually getting ready to leave yourself.
“text me when you get home, love you,” she said, giving you a quick kiss before getting into her car.
“i will, love you.” you waved bye and put your headphones in to walk home. it was about a 20 minute walk but you liked walking, it was a good opportunity to listen to music and daydream.
once home, you quickly messaged kate that you were home safe and then sighed as you dropped your bag onto your bed, taking in the mess you’d made last night.
“fuck sake,” you mumbled, starting to lazily fold everything up and put it away. throwing a few things in a haphazard pile to go in the laundry. after that was done you took a shower and put on some fresh clothes. you didn’t even realise the time when your apartment intercom buzzed. you heard ellie’s voice say “hey, it’s me” before you buzzed her in. you opened the door before she could even knock.
“hey.”
“hey, i brought some food if you’re hungry,” she said, dumping the shopping bag on your kitchen counter. it looked like it had your favourite crisps/chips, some salsa, some strawberries, bottles of coke and a couple other snacks.
“oh thanks,” you smiled. she was wearing a t-shirt underneath a button up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, exposing her tattooed forearms.
you got out a couple of plates and started emptying the snacks onto them. ellie leaned on the counter, watching you until you handed one to her.
“thanks.”
you both sat on the sofa, your legs bumping into each other and you subconsciously moved over slightly so you weren’t touching. it felt like you shouldn’t really be sat that close, even though it wasn’t a big deal. out the corner of your eye you couldn’t tell if you could see a small smirk on her face or not.
you put on a random true crime documentary you’d been watching whilst you ate, even though you were barely listening to it as you talked.
“–it was fucking hilarious,” ellie laughed hard, her head going back, as she recounted when you had massively embarrassed yourself in a karaoke incident last week with dina when the three of you had gone out.
“god it was so embarrassing,” you held your head in your hands, laughing but your cheeks had heated up with the flashbacks.
“that was probably one of the drunkest i’ve ever seen you, and i’ve seen that a lot,” she grinned at you, getting a kick out of how flustered you were.
“fuck you, stop,” you giggled, playfully shoving her. her hand instinctively flying up to yours, grazing it before you took it back. you both just looked at each other for a moment, still smiling at the memory.
“you wanna carry on playing that video game?” she asked. you said yes and took the plates to the kitchen whilst she set it up on your tv. video games were one of the things you and ellie had first bonded over when you met and you’d always played them together ever since. you both had intense game rage so pretty much no matter what game you were playing, whether it was a horror game or a fucking gardening simulator, you’d both always be yelling out curses and generally just being loud. you obviously played a lot of multiplayer games, but sometimes you’d play singer player games and just watched each other.
you also both accidentally became very touchy. as in you’d be sat close enough together that your thighs touched. this was just so that you could both see the screen clearly. obviously. you’d be able to shove each other with your shoulders constantly, or if there was a jumpscare you’d scream and your hands would rush to grab each other. you didn’t mind. it had always been this way between you.
you played the game for a couple hours, becoming entirely engrossed in it. it was called it takes two and essentially, it was about two parents getting a divorce and after they tell their daughter, she plays with two dolls who look like her parents and pretend they’re not splitting up. the parents then turn into these tiny dolls and they have to put their differences aside in order to work together to get back to normal. it was hilarious and frustrating.
“what the fuck are you doing!?” ellie yelled.
“i’m trying to jump onto this thing.”
“no no you need to pull that lever first.”
“i fucking did!”
“well i can’t fucking move so you need to push it the other way.”
“you’re the one who told me to do it this way!”
“no i didn’t!”
“ellie… yes you did!”
she snickered at you. “whatever, just move it again.”
“my god, so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, jokingly.
“what was that?” she joked, nudging your arm, pretending she didn’t hear you.
“i said,” you looked at her, “you’re being bossy.”
your eyes were playful and the corners of her mouth fought against a wide smile. it took her brain a second to register a response. she looked back at the screen, and shook her head, not being able to come up with anything clever.
“just fucking do it.”
you smirked to yourself for winning that mini dispute, but did what she said and pushed the lever the other way so her character could move. you played for a while longer before you paused and checked the time.
“i need to get ready.”
“okay, we should probably order some food, what do you feel like?”
“pizza?” you said, heading towards your bedroom, ellie absentmindedly following you as you talked.
“cool, i’ll order some.”
“thanks, i’ll transfer you half of whatever it is.”
“no you don’t need to,” she said, leaning against your bedroom door frame as you raided through a draw.
“you never let me pay,” you huffed.
she just laughed, watching you faff around your room. eventually, you picked out a different top, not bothering to change your jeans. ellie was still leaning on the door frame, but was looking at her phone.
you ripped your top off, leaving you in just a bra and you applied some more deodorant. you didn’t really think much about changing in front of ellie, you’d known each other long enough that you’d both done it before. you probably wouldn’t if you were getting completely undressed, but it was just your top. besides, she probably wasn’t even paying attention. you didn’t notice her sneaking a quick glance at the line going down the middle of your back. you put the new top on and grabbed your makeup bag.
“how long does it say the pizzas gonna be?” you asked. ellie moved to sit on the end of your bed, leaning back until she was supporting her weight on her forearm, her knees dangling off the edge.
“about 10 minutes.”
“cool.”
she watched as you put make up on. silently admiring how much care you took with each step. you were sat on the floor with your back to her but caught her eye in the mirror. it made you a bit nervous for some reason.
“what are you doing?” you laughed.
“watching how the fuck you do all of that,” she mused.
“it’s not that hard, i pretty much just do the same look every single time anyway,” you said, patting blush on your cheeks with your fingertips.
“it’s still fun to watch,” ellie said, pulling out her phone again. when the pizza arrived, she answered the door for them. you ate, finished spritzing yourself with perfume and pulled your converses on.
“let’s go.”
˚ · • . ° .
you arrived at hazy about 10 minutes before the band were due to start playing. you could see them in the corner, finalising their set up. it was busy inside and ellie put her hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowd towards the bar.
“hey guys,” nadine, the girl behind the bar greeted you both. as you and ellie came here a lot, they all knew you. “what can i get for you?”
ellie looked at you and gestured for you to order first.
“i’ll have a corona, please,” you said and ellie said she’d have the same, whilst reaching into her back pocket to get her card out.
“no, els, i’m paying,” you grabbed her hand tightly to stop her and quickly tapped your card on the machine. nadine chuckled to herself and handed you both your drinks.
ellie laughed and rolled her eyes at you as you weaved your way through the crowd to a free table near where the band were just starting to introduce their first song.
you both sipped your drinks and watched them perform, subtly swaying a little to the beat in your chair.
“they’re really good,” ellie leant over to say in your ear, you could hardly hear each other otherwise.
“yeah, really good.”
after a couple more songs had been played you got up to go the bathroom. on your way back you got some more beers.
“thanks babe,” ellie said as you placed one in front of her. she didn’t do it a lot, but she’d always occasionally called you babe. you were sure it was just a flippant nickname but you couldn’t help but enjoy it every time.
˚ · • . ° .
it was well into the night now and you were both drunk and dancing, along with most of the people in here. ellie wasn’t much of a dancer but she had no problem holding your waist as you swayed to the music and holding your hand when you laughed and span around, accidentally falling into her. your free hand landing on her shoulder to steady yourself and she laughed at your clumsiness.
it took you a minute to realise how close you had gotten, bodies practically against each other, but you made an attempt to compose yourself.
“you okay?” she asked. her hand felt hot on your waist.
“yeah,” you leaned in closer to her ear so she could hear you, “i’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”
she let you go as you stumbled through the dancing bodies. after peeing, you washed your hands and leant on the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. you were having a fun night with ellie as always but you were also aware that you were getting to that flirty stage of being drunk so you silently ordered yourself to pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.
you could see a girl talking to ellie. she’s pretty, you thought. you slowly made your way over there, not wanting to interrupt but also not wanting to be suddenly left alone. as you got closer you could see the girl’s face drop and she left.
“who was that?” you asked, taking your drink back from ellie.
“just a girl asking for my number.”
“oh yeah? did you give it to her?”
“no,” she said, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of embarrassment flash through her eyes.
“why not?”
“i didn’t want it.”
“but she’s cute?”
“yeah, well. i’m here with you so,” she smiled at you, licking her lips and tilting her head slightly.
you tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling so wide. “you’re such a loser, ellie.”
˚ · • . ° .
you stumbled home with ellie after you’d offered for her to crash on your sofa. you hauled a spare duvet out from a cupboard and laid it on the sofa for her. she flopped down, lying on her back, mumbling out a thanks. you were going to take a glass of water to bed with you so you poured her one as well, spilling it slightly as you put it down on the floor next to her.
“oh fuck,” you giggled, “never mind.”
“thanks,” she said, looking up at you. you smiled before shuffling off to bed.
you heard her call out, “night babe.”
you yelled a “night” back and flung yourself onto your bed, making feeble attempts to remove your makeup before stripping off and slipping under the covers.
♡♡♡♡♡♡
an: so as i said before, this will probably have multiple parts, i hope you enjoyed part one! also, i’m from the uk so if any info about travelling around the us is wrong, my bad, and hazy is a made up bar so if that’s a real place, that’s purely a coincidence and it’s not based on it. anyway, let me know what you think of this so far, i’m really excited for it💜💜
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
Randomly Flashing Your Pierced Tits at Them (NSFW-ISH?)
Black Fem Reader in Mind
Ft. Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law
Sanji
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You almost didn’t do it. This would have been detrimental—hell fatal, but Sanji has been a bit sick so Nami was on cooking duty as he was in your bed in and out of sleep
He hated getting sick, if anything he really wanted to just lay in bed with you all day, but he couldn’t risk giving his sickness to you.
“Feeling any better?” You touched his burning head nearly whining at how badly he must feel.
“No.” He sniffed sitting up. “I can’t feel or taste anything.
That’s when the idea popped up. Today was a great day not to wear a bra.
You climbed on top of him. Sanji immediately got hotter, he nearly protested you to not get close but you scoffed and kissed him anyways.
“Did you feel that?”
“I-I—I um—“
You pull up your top before he could answer and place his cold hands on your breast nearly making you hiss.
No more snot was coming from his nose, but blood instead.
He loved your jewlery so much he was toying with them with his eyes glued on how they shined on your beautiful little nipples. You laugh at his little praises of how soft they were
“Can you feel n—“
“YES!”
To this day Sanji believes your tits were the cure because he felt better the very next day.
Zoro
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For this past week Zoro has been walking around the ship shirtless.
It’s not that you mind it it’s just not fair because his tits look so great and you wish he would get matching nipple piercings with you.
You and Zoro have been going out for a while and he has never actually seen you naked. There has been a few occurrences where he ALMOST seen you naked, but he quickly left the room before seeing anything.
So today you wanted to be a menace and just show him what you got and maybe convince him to get at least ONE
“Zo..”
“Hm?” He hums arms behind his head leaning on the wall of the CN.
“Would you ever get a nipple piercing.”
“What?”
“Would you—“
“I heard you.”
“Then why’d you ask.”
“…”
“No I wouldn’t.”
“Whyyyy—“
“Because they look stupid.”
Immediately offended you sit in shock
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Lookit.”
You just pull up your shirt like it’s nobody’s business.
Zoro jumps the same time your breast do and you laugh at his blushing face
“WHY’D YOU DO THAT PUT THOSE AWAY!”
“IM TRYING TO SHOW YOU THEM—“
“THEM?!”
“MY PIERCINGS! See look.”
You force his face to look at your jiggly pierced tits. He’d be lying to say they didn’t look hot. How eyes widened, cheeks red, and lips now dry.
“They’re…pretty.”
“I know right. Feel it.”
Law
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You flashed them on accident
A happy accident.
You were in his room and you seen one of his kimono’s and you really wanted to wear it because it looked so cozy ! So you stripped and took off your bra too because you believed you might as well be completely comfortable laying around in his room.
You actually looked so good in it, your breast loooked amazing. You moved around and pranced in your boyfriend’s room in his clothes until you got tired and decided to take a nap on his bed.
Good news about that is you probably had one of the best naps of your life.
Bad news is you were tossing and turning so much the kimono slipped off a little
“Y/N…”
“Hm?”
You jumped, Law seen you sleep and smirked. He wanted to scold or at least tease you for going through his stuff while he was away but his mind went blank seeing your bare chest as his kimono slipped down.
“O-oh! I’m sorry!” You quickly cover yourself as Law slowly approaches you and sits on the bed with and unreadable face.
“Never pegged you for a girl that had nipple piercings…”
You could see the blush on his face. Law was embarrassingly turned on seeing your little secret(s). He always suspected you had something to hide considering you always cover your chest a lot. He assumed it was a tattoo or something but this was even better.
“Yeah….you like em?!”
“I—uh…”
You took off your kimono again to expose your tatas and Law was not only speechless but feeling hot. You seen his fist balled eye’ing your breast so you grab his hand and make him touch one
“You’re my boyfriend Law, you can touch them..”
Bad idea because now that’s all he does when you two are alone or sleep.
Luffy
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You were sitting on the head of the Sunny with Luffy laughing and relaxing when you got a bit warm and took off your denim jacket exposing your bra less white crop top.
Luffy wasn’t really the type to stare at your body, but since you both have gotten a bit more touchy with each other he does steal a few glances here or there
And that’s when he noticed your tits had—
“Y/N you have three nipples?! AHHAHAA!”
You furrowed your brows until you looked down and seen your erect nipples and piercings poke through your shirt on which makes it look like you have 3 nipples on each breast
“OH! No! Nonono it’s—“
“YOU DOOOO LOOK AHAHAH!”
Usually Luffy’s laugh makes you smile but right now you couldn’t get him to shut up and listen. He laughed damn near as hard when he was in Dressrosa.
You groan and pull up your shirt exposing your pierced boobies and waited for him to look at you. Once he did he finally started to calm down.
“These ARENT nipples they are piercings !”
“Huh?”
“I got my nipples pierced years ago—hey!”
Luffy immediately begins to fondle your breast. They actually feel really good bare. However when you got the piercings your nipples became very sensitive and your boyfriend started to test out that theory
“Why’d you get them? I mean they look cool but doesn’t it hurt?”
You couldn’t even answer him, he kept flicking and rubbing his fingers on your sensitive buttons making you bite your lip.
“These are kinda cool! They fit you.”
“Y-yeah.” You pull your shirt back down and Luffy pushes it back up making you jump as he got closer to cop another feel
“W-what are you doing!? Ah—…”
“Heheheh you like when I touch you here huh…”
“Luffy no!”
“Luffy yes! Common lemme…it’s just us! Besides you started it.”
Congratulations Luffy has a new toy.
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bucketsofmonsters · 7 months
Note
I was wondering, in Proper Etiquette (my favourite of your writings) Reader is wearing dresses and corsets all the time (which is Wonderful and corsets are Not Evil Actually they're literally a bra that supports the weight of heavy layers of skirts BUT I DIGRESS) but how would Rygel react to his wife, feeling a little cold as fall comes along, asks to have a sweater like he's wearing and some warm pants or a wool skirt and petticoat to wear with the sweater, rather than her usual fine clothes that clearly aren't built for the weather in her new home
You’re so real for the corset thing, I will defend corsets until the day I die. Also sorry this took me forever
Rygel ran hot. You were well aware of that fact by now. Every time you pressed up against him he radiated heat, more than any person you’d ever been near, although to be fair you didn’t have much of a frame of reference. 
What had taken a bit longer was realizing they all did. 
When you’d first arrived it had been summer, a little colder than the summers you were accustomed to, but nothing too severe. 
But then winter had come, and with it, something unfamiliar to you. With it came the snow. 
It was a perfect coincidence for them because while they seemed largely comfortable in the cold of your new home, you were not. You were instead accustomed to a little rain in the winter, maybe some cold winds, but nothing an extra layer or two couldn’t combat. 
This was far from that. At first, the snow had been delightful. You’d only ever heard stories and caught glimpses of it on the peaks of faraway mountains, but here it was all around you. 
As the novelty faded, it became a bit more of a problem. 
You tried what you’d always done, adding layers and bundling up, but you just didn’t have enough. Nothing you had was built for this kind of cold and it wasn’t like you could borrow clothes from someone, you’d drown in the sheer amount of fabric.
So instead you stood, bundled under layers that were helpless against the biting cold. You’d barely been outside for a few minutes before you’d rushed back into the warmth of your room but the cold had settled in your bones and couldn’t be snuffed out so easily. 
Your jaw was clenched to stop your teeth from chattering, your whole body wound tight, trying to preserve what little heat you had. 
“I’m not built for this,” you said with a huff as you collapsed backward onto your bed, wrapping yourself in blankets. 
Rygel huffed out a laugh from his desk, his attention still focused on whatever he was reading. “Not built for what?”
“Winter. Not here at least. I think I might go into hibernation.”
He froze, eyes widening before he turned to you. “Oh my god, you’re cold. Of course you are, I should’ve prepared for this.”
You cut him off. “No, I’m fine, really. I’ve been keeping inside as much as I can, the layers have been helping, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
He did not seem convinced. “We don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you. Hell, we don’t have warm enough clothes anyway. Shit. You should’ve told me.” His words were dripping with concern as the full implications of his mistake hit him. 
“Rygel,” you said, trying to cut through the worry and reassure him. “I’m fine, really, it’s not a big deal. I can stay inside for a season, god knows there’s more than enough fires and blankets in this place to keep me warm.”
“I should have realized. I forget how fragile your kind are, I should have seen this coming, gotten you some real clothes. As much as I love those dresses, we have to get you in some furs. ”
 “We are not fragile, you are just all far too sturdy. And besides, I like my dresses.”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed dismissively with a smile. “Sure we are. I really should have been more careful with you though. Your safety is more important than anything. I will keep you warm if it’s the last thing I do, even if we do have to cover up those pretty little dresses. Now, how will I ever manage to keep you warm until we can get you some better-suited clothes?”
You climbed onto his lap, ducking underneath his shirt, and pressed up close to him, absorbing his heat as you felt a chuckle run through his chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t get you warm clothes,” he said as a steady arm wrapped around you. “I think I prefer this.”
You hummed in agreement. “Plus it’s very dignified.”
His hand scooped under you, lifting you while keeping you close to him. “Very.”
You happily nuzzled further into his chest and he returned to his work, his arm still firmly wrapped around you. You were sure he’d find something for you, get you warmer clothes and make sure you were safe and warm and happy. His concern more than convinced you of that. 
And when all else failed, at least your husband ran hot.
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kyunzin · 2 months
Text
𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟
character; 𝐏. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧
cw; he needs a way to de-stress after coming back from a mission and what better way to do that than fucking his more than willing wife (f!reader)
tags; nsfw, slight hand job, standing sex, praise
a/n; I think I like this a bit more than I should, a like longer gang
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all he wants to do when he wants to do when he gets home is release all of the pent up frustration that had accumulated over the day from working with the other operators and what better way to do that then sinking into the right heart of his precious wife.
it was no surprise to you when he came home and greeted you with a heated kiss upon his arrival or the way he hoisted you up from your thighs holding you up as he stands by the wall with your legs and arms wrapped securely around him the two of you making out like pubescent teenagers.
it’s not unusual to him when when he slips a hand under your dress and finds that you’re wearing a laced thong, smiling when he feels how wet you are when he runs two calloused fingers down your sex.
“looks like someone missed me. I was only gone for two days love and you’re already this needy”
he says that although he’s the one that’s been itching to sink his cock into you the moment he walked in, pulling your underwear to the side being to impatient to take them off. he makes quick work of doing so by fingering you properly with no fanfare marvelling at the way his fingers slip inside with ease, scissoring and cuing his fingers making sure to hit the spot that makes you arch into him
it’s not long before he’s satisfied and unbuckles his belt pulling out his heavy cock from his boxers letting it spring free hanging between the two of you, watching as you reach down to stroke it without breaking eye contact with him. pumping his cock up and down before he decides you’ve had enough fu, pulling your dress off you in one swift movement.
“don’t tease me, it wont end well for you” you kiss him without warning and he readily accepts. while your occupied with his lips he works on lining up his cock to your entrance and rubbing his cock-head against you folds collecting your juices on the tip before pressing in slowly, swallowing the moan you let out into his mouth.
with an little effort he lift you up and drops you back on his cock mercilessly, moaning at the way you grip him tightly at the sudden movement not that you fare any differently, slipping your hands into his hat ridden hair and gripping onto the soft short strands. he quickly finds a satisfying pace that leaves the both of you panting into each other’s mouth, the kiss soon becoming sloppy though neither of you care.
he knows he won’t last much longer with the way your sucking him I’m so he flips the two of you, leaning you against the wall fucking you with sharp thrusts setting a brutal pace. “just look at how well you’re taking me right now, such a good girl” knowing that you won’t last longer as well he leans down to kiss the side of your neck, sucking bruises into you skin and he lets go of one of you legs to flick and pinch your nipple.
with all the added stimulation it’s no surprise that you’re cumming around his cock with a shout of “m’cumming yesyesyes!” your pussy convulsing around him, nails digging into the back of his head while he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
you can tell he will soon follow by the way his thrusts start to stagger as he begins to let out low groans. you’re not wrong as he soon locks his hips with yours, filling you full of his cum as he lets out a sigh of relief. his lips meet yours again while you both cool down.
he efficiently bring the two of you to the bathroom to clean up pulling you into the shower with him where you have to stop him from trying to fuck you against the shower wall again. drying off and putting on comfortable clothes before the two of you cuddle in the sofa and you tell him how your days were without him while he lazily strokes you arm all the stress now or off his system.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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crypticreid · 8 months
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KINKTOBER DAY THREE
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October 8 -- Begging
masterlist
author's note: this was supposed to be mutual masturbation, but I wasn't feeling it, so I switched it to begging. Thank you again for everyone reading and supporting. 💕💕💕 If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 🎃🎃🎃
summary: Spencer can't help but be upset with the choice you made, so he takes out his frustration in your hotel room later.
warnings: female reader, dom!spencer, begging, a little bit of 'good girl', hand job, fingering, female receiving oral, multiple orgasms
word count: 3.6k
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
His eyes flick over to you, and you can read him like a book. The anger and frustration battle across his features as he opens his mouth to argue against your suggestion. You speak before he can, “I know this is dangerous, but I trust all of you to keep me safe. We have to do this.” Spencer slams his mouth shut and forcefully turns his head from you. Your stomach drops, but you know you’re making the right decision. This case will be over in a couple of hours, and then you can talk this out with him, and everything will be fine. 
If anyone notices Spencer’s reaction, they don’t say anything. Instead, most of the team looks at you with worried expressions. Hotch is assessing you, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest. “This guy is erratic and unpredictable.” He says in his calm and calculated tone. 
“He’s going to attack tonight. We know that this vigil is going to draw him. He can’t resist it. All I need to do is distract him long enough for you to move in.” You explain rationally. “We can’t allow more people to die, and I’m the only one who hasn’t been identified as an agent by the media.” 
You refuse to break eye contact with Hotch. You steady your breathing and straighten your shoulders. You’re confident in this choice, and Hotch knows you won’t back down. He nods, “okay.” 
“Okay?” Spencer interjects, his voice breaking slightly from his heightened emotion. “You can’t be serious, Hotch.” 
“This is her choice.” Hotch answers, and everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as they wait for you to reply. 
Hotch clears his throat, “let’s get started. We’ve got four hours until the vigil.” 
You level your gaze at Spencer, trying to telepathically tell him you’re sorry. “I have to do this.” Spencer’s jaw sets hard. You see the muscles flex against each other. He turns away from you and leaves the room.
“He’s just worried. We all are.” Emily reaches out for you and rubs a comforting hand up and down your arm. You nod. 
You don’t see Spencer again until you’re in the SUV five blocks away from the site of the vigil. Morgan had spent the entire ride over repeating the plan to you and making sure you understood exactly where everyone else was going to be. You kept nodding and letting him start over again because you knew that this was how Morgan made himself feel better about the situation. Before he got out of the vehicle, he had reached over to the passenger seat and grasped your shoulder. “You’re brave. And you’re damn good at your job. We’ll catch this bastard.” 
Now you’re alone, glancing at the watch on your wrist. In ten minutes, you’re going to get out of the car and walk toward the vigil. It’s chilly enough that you have a jacket on, and it doesn’t even look like you’re wearing a vest underneath your clothing. You let out a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves. 
You jump when the passenger door swings open and you reach for your holster automatically. “It’s me.” Spencer says, and you take your hand away. 
“You’re supposed to already be at the vigil.” You mutter and look straight ahead out the windshield because you can’t look at him. You can’t handle seeing any sort of anger on his face. 
“I know.” He says your name, and you turn to face him. The anger in his eyes has dissipated, and only fear remains. 
“Spencer, I’ll be –” You start, but you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing the side of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. It’s forceful and meaningful, and your hands find a tight grip on his shoulders. The two of you say goodbye to each other with your lips and tongues, neither one of you wanting to break apart, to face reality. 
Finally, he pulls away from you and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Be safe. Please.” 
You incline your head toward his, connecting your forehead to his. “I will.” 
He kisses you again, with less force, but with the same meaning, and then steps away and closes the car door. You watch as he walks down the alley until he completely disappears. And then a few minutes later, you get out and walk the opposite direction down the alley. 
Your hotel room is dark, and only the lights on the nightstand work, but you’re too exhausted to complain. After wrapping the case, Hotch had told everyone to head to the hotel for a few hours, and you would fly out in the morning. No one argued because you hadn’t even seen your hotel room since landing. 
You’ve taken a shower, changed into pajamas, and started to get comfortable in bed when there’s a knock on your door. You climb out of bed and look through the peephole to see Spencer standing in the hallway. Quickly, you open the door and step aside for him to come inside. As soon as you shut the door and turn around, he has his hands on you, your waist, your hips, shaky hands traveling across your skin. 
“I’m okay, Spencer. Not even a scratch. I’m fine.” You reassure him with a calm and steady voice. He doesn’t stop his hands and won’t look you in the eyes, so you reach out for him. Your own hands hold onto both sides of his face and force him to look into your eyes. “I’m fine.” You repeat. 
He swallows and nods and blinks away the tears that were gathering in his eyes. “Don’t do that again, please.” 
You know you can’t promise that, but you also know that Spencer doesn’t want to hear that right now. “Okay.” He kisses your cheek. “Okay.” He kisses your other cheek and then your forehead and, finally, your lips. His hands on your hips pull you tighter against him like he can’t have you close enough, like he wants the two of you to merge together as one person. Your hands move up into his hair, fingers tangling into soft locks, nails scratching against his scalp. His moan vibrates against your lips, and he deepens the kiss. His grip on your hips is vice-like. You groan into his mouth. 
He mumbles your name, and you answer with a moan, suddenly desperate for every part of him. The stress of the day comes to a head, and you just want your mind to go blank. Spencer is the only person who can make your brain stop its constant ruminations. 
“Please, Spencer.” You urge him with your words, but also a quick movement of your hips against him. You move your hands away from his hair and down the back of his neck toward his clavicle and then start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. 
You only get one button undone before he says, “stop.” He breaks away from your lips, and his hands wrap around both of your wrists and pull your hands off of his shirt. When you look into his eyes, the anger is back, not as fiery and passionate as it was hours before but low and simmering just below the surface. “You think you just get what you want after that?” 
His voice is heavy with emotion, and it zings straight to your lower belly. You want to smile, but press your lips together instead and shake your head. 
“Answer me.” 
“No.” 
“Maybe I shouldn’t give you anything tonight, huh?” He moves one of your wrists into his other hand so that he has both of them wrapped in one hand. The hand that's now free moves to your neck, a finger trailing down to your clavicle. You swallow against it. “I should leave this room right now. Leave you all alone and so needy.” 
You swallow again. “Spencer, please.” 
He lifts your wrists above your head and pushes you up against the door of the hotel room in rapid succession. You let out a sharp gasp at the movement. “Please, what? What do you want?” His other hand has found another place back on your hip, gripping it, his thumb rubbing back and forth on a bit of skin peeking out from your old Academy t-shirt. 
“Please don’t leave.” You whisper. The hand on your hip slides underneath your shirt and up your stomach toward your breasts. His fingertips are barely there against your skin, enough to make your skin tingle, and goosebumps bloom, but not enough to satiate any need for his touch. 
He drags one of his fingers across the underside of your breast, and your hands twitch in his grasp above your head. He twists his grip and tightens it. 
The hand near your breast spreads across your breast and grabs it. You arch your back into his touch. “You need it so bad, don’t you?” 
“Yes. I need it.” You don’t even attempt to play coy and press your thighs together, trying to get any sort of relief between them. 
Spencer ducks his head against your exposed neck and kisses it roughly, nips at it without leaving a mark, and then licks and soothes where his teeth nibbled. “Are you going to listen?” 
You nod before realizing that you need to answer verbally. “Yes. Yes. I will. I promise.” 
He laughs against your neck. His breaths on your skin make you press your thighs tighter together. “You’re going to do as you’re told.” It isn’t a question. 
“Yes.” You confirm. 
His lips find yours again, and the hand up your shirt tightens on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, teasing it back and forth. He kisses you slowly, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and then racing to brush his tongue against it. A constant tug of war between a ping of pain and a rush of comfort. You take all of it, anything he is willing to give you, you want all of it. 
When his thumb and pointer finger takes your nipple and rolls it between a pinch of his fingers, you let out a desperate noise. 
“Spencer.” 
He makes a deep noise from the back of his throat but doesn’t stop kissing you or pinching your nipple. A pulse all of its own begins in your core, fluttery and demanding. 
“I’ll do anything, please.”  He bites at your clavicle, the only place he’s marked you so far because he knows it will be covered by your shirt in the morning. 
“You’re going to leave your hands above your head, do you understand?” He finally instructs. 
“Yes.” 
“You don’t get to touch me.” 
“Spencer,” you start to protest, but you look into his eyes and stop yourself. 
“You touch me, and I stop. Do you understand?” 
You swallow. “Yes.”  
“Good.” He goes back to your neck, teasing and tasting your skin, driving you crazy with want. But you don’t dare move. If he pulls away completely now and leaves, you think you might lose your mind. 
In between his soft bites, he instructs, “I’m going to let go of your wrists, okay? But you’re not going to move them. Leave them exactly where they are. And then I’m going to get on my knees and make you come as many times as I want. But if you touch me at all, I’m going to go back to my hotel room and leave you here all alone. Okay?” 
“Okay.” You nod feverishly. He lets go of your wrists, and you don’t move a muscle. 
He smiles smugly and pinches your nipple one last time before sliding down to his knees in front of you. His fingers graze up the back of your calves and thighs and then to the front of your thighs. He pushes your legs apart, and you lean back further on the door for support as he pulls down your pajama pants, leaving your underwear on. 
“Look at you,” he tuts. “Soaking through your panties just from a couple of kisses.” 
You let out a frustrated breath. “It was more than a couple kisses.” 
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and you slam your mouth shut. “Are you going to waste my time? Talking back with that smart mouth?” 
“No.” 
“I can think of better uses for that mouth. You can’t talk back with my cock down your throat, can you?” 
You swallow harshly, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “No, I can’t.” 
He leans forward, and you hold your breath, waiting, but he kisses your inner thigh instead. And then he starts the same pattern of kissing and nipping he’d done earlier, but now on your thigh. His hands are on your ass, massaging and rubbing. As he moves to your other thigh, he makes a point to incline toward the place you need him so desperately, but he only exhales across it. You whimper, and you feel the turn of a smile on his lips as he presses into your thigh. 
It is basically torture, and it’s taking every single ounce of self control you have not to grab his head and put him exactly where you want him. You know you can’t, so you beg instead, “please, Spencer. I can’t take the teasing anymore.” 
“Aw, my poor baby.” He taunts, and you grunt when he pulls away completely and removes his hands. He sits back on his heels and looks up at you. “Take off your shirt.” 
You do what he asks rapidly and then put your hands back above your head without him asking. He smiles, “good girl.” 
The room is dim, shadows play across his face, but he watches you as you breathe, your breasts rising and falling. He lifts hands and presses his palms up your stomach and then back down, causing more goosebumps springing up across your skin, toward your core, but he bypasses it and travels down your thighs instead. “I think you’ve ruined these panties, baby.” He laughs, mesmerized by the growing wet spot. Your clit is throbbing and you feel like you could fall apart with only one single touch from him. 
“What would you do if I stopped now?” He wraps his hands across your thighs and squeezes and then looks up to your eyes. “Stood up and walked out of this room?” 
You would probably spend the rest of your night touching yourself until you couldn’t handle it, but you don’t want that. “Please don’t.” You reply instead. “Please touch me, Spencer.” 
He squeezes your thighs again. “I am touching you.” 
You groan, frustrated. “Touch my pussy, please. I need it.” You give in. He can’t help his smile as he moves one hand over slightly and uses his thumb to touch the wet spot on your underwear. He presses into you over the fabric. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, but you moan anyway because you’re so desperate. 
He presses deeper, wetting his thumb through the fabric, and then moves it upward, finally rubbing over your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath and lean forward slightly. His thumb rubs up and down on your clit lightly, practically a feather-like touch. He doesn’t use any pressure on it. You move your hips forward, trying to force some pressure, but just pulls away. 
“Spencer.” You whimper. 
He laughs, “so whiney.” He puts his thumb back and continues in the exact same way as before. You lean back fully back on the door with a small cry. “Do you want to come?” He asks.
You screw your eyes shut and nod furiously. 
“Open your eyes and answer me.” 
You force your eyes open. “I want to come, please, Spencer.” You try to get rid of the whine in your voice, but you don’t succeed.  
“Yeah, I can tell you do.” He uses just a little more pressure on your clit and begins to circle it. You shiver and let out a pitiful moan. “So needy. So desperate.” He mutters and leans forward to kiss along your thigh again. Your hips buck against him involuntarily. “You can come whenever you want, baby.” 
“I need more.” 
“No.” He kisses your thigh again and looks up to your eyes. “You come from this.” You curl your toes on the floor and push your head back. “I’ll give you more when you come.” His thumb continues its barely enough circles on your clit and you exhale. “Don’t you want more?” 
“Yes!” You huff. 
“Then come.” He nips your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your clenching pussy, but never actually reaching it. His other hand moves back to your ass and he kisses your other thigh. You can feel the deep pleasure at the base of your spine and you give yourself over to it. “That’s it, so good, baby. Come just like this.” 
You come hard and force your hands to stay above your head, your hips bucking against Spencer’s hand. He moves his hand from your ass and holds onto your hip to stay your movements. Once you come down from your high he pulls down your underwear and sticks his thumb into your pussy. 
“You're dripping, baby.” He murmurs and fingers you for a few seconds until swiping the thumb back up to your clit. You’ve barely had time to recover from your first orgasm and you let out a small breathy shout. “Ssshh, we can’t let anyone else hear how needy you are.” 
You bit your lip to contain your whimpers. Spencer’s thumb circles your clit, using the pressure you need. Another wave of pleasure is already rising, gathering low in your belly. “Do you want my fingers, baby?” 
“Please. Spencer. Yes. I need them. Please.” You ramble. 
He takes the hand that’s on your hip and inserts his middle and ring fingers into you, immediately pressing into you, rubbing against the spot inside you that makes you want to scream. You swallow the shout that you can’t let out and instead continue to ramble to Spencer. Your legs shake as you give into another wave of pleasure. 
“That’s it, give me another one. So good, baby.” You come against his hand again, but this time Spencer doesn’t let you come down from it. Instead, he moves the hand off your clit and grips your hip to hold you in place as his mouth replaces his hand. You ride his tongue through the aftershocks of your orgasm and let the next wave begin to crest. His fingers never falter as he fingers you. He pulls away for only a split second, “touch me.” 
Your hands fall from the door instantly and tangle in his hair, grasping and scratching, finally getting to push him harshly into you. He moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. You come one more time with a small shout, as quiet as you can. Your legs are shaky and unstable, but Spencer holds you tightly as he takes his time licking you clean. 
When he stands up to his full height, you pull him into a kiss and then lower your hands down to his belt. He breaks the kiss, “I don’t have a condom.” 
You kiss him and continue to take off his belt. “I don’t care.” You get his belt undone, unbuckle his pants, and reach in to take him in your hand. He’s unbelievably hard. The feeling of him is so heavy in your hand. 
He puts his hands on your shoulders as he takes a shuddering breath. “You should care. We haven’t talked about this yet. And you’re in the heat of the moment.” He rationalizes. 
You stick out your bottom lip because you know he’s right. “Can we talk about it later? Cause I want you, all of you.” You squeeze the base of him. His eyes flutter shut and then flip back open as he licks his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk about it.” Then he kisses you again as you pump your hand up and down on him, your thumb swiping at his leaking head. “Oh shit. Don’t stop.” He stutters against your lips. His kisses are sloppy and nothing like his calculated kisses earlier, but you don’t care. He’s pumping his hips into you, so completely lost in the feeling of your hand on him. 
It doesn’t take long until he’s moaning into your mouth, “so good. You’re so good,” he rambles. One of his hands reaches for your hair and pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. You bite your bottom lip, and he comes in his pants with a harsh grunt. 
He kisses you, and you keep moving your hand until he’s hissing from sensitivity and pulling away from you. 
The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you back into a deep kiss until you're both breathless. You subtly wipe your hand on his underwear because they’re already a mess, and then both hands hold onto his waist until his kisses slow down. 
“I’m sorry for being angry.” He finally says. 
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I guess today, technically. But at home, I mean.” He looks into your eyes, searching. 
He nods. “Okay.” And he kisses you again, light and feathery. “I need to go clean up before we leave.” 
Your fingers play with the edge of his pants. “Or you could stay, and I could clean you up.” You offer with a not so innocent smile. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He kisses you chastely and pulls away. He looks around for your shirt and pants and then helps you get dressed again. “See you on the jet.” 
You step away from the door and let him leave. In a few hours, you’ll have to board the jet and pretend that the genius profiler on your team didn’t just give you three mind blowing orgasms, so for now you allow yourself to watch him walk down the hotel hallway. He scrambles to buckle his belt as he walks and then runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. You go back into your room with a smile.
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife
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Life's Pleasures (S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer struggles with some side effects of his medication after prison. Request: Spencer being insecure about his weight gain post prison. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Weight gain, body insecurity  Word Count: 800
MASTERLIST
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Spencer was a creature of habit more than he was of comfort. Call it superstition or autistic tendencies, even the slightest alteration to his routine could have catastrophic results.
Unsurprisingly, three months in prison did little to help him with those feelings. In fact, they made them much worse.
Despite the best efforts of yourself and the entire BAU, there was no question that Spencer needed help. Thanks very much to each of you, however, he had finally felt okay adding a small capsule to his daily routine.
It was nothing he was ashamed of. Unfortunately, however, that magical little concoction of neurotransmitters had a few… unintended side effects. He hadn’t said anything about it yet, but you had watched his favorite clothing got tighter until he couldn’t bear to wear it anymore.
You were acutely aware of how sensitive he would be with such a dramatic change. So, that Sunday, when you see Spencer padding out in his favorite pair of Saturday-specific sweats, you try to be kind.
“Hey handsome!” you call.
He is caught off guard enough to smile.
“What did I do to deserve you in sweats on a Sunday?”
His smile falls just as quickly. His bashfulness turns into a sadness that feels all-encompassing.
“My pants don’t fit,” he mutters as he toys with the drawstring.
“Lucky me,” you joke.
Spencer doesn’t respond like you’d hoped. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. He just stays staring at the string that is shorter than normal. He doesn’t even notice that you’re approaching him until your palms are pressed against his cheeks.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you whisper.
He winces.
“I just…”
You give him a small reassuring smile and it stirs something in him. Some small shift out of his self-preservation instinct and back into the comfort of your embrace.
“I know I’m getting older, and stress does a lot of damage, and that can always manifest as weight gain,” he rambles.
He leaves out the medicated nature of it all, but you don’t bother to correct him. You just listen as he continues.
“But my body’s never been like this. It’s never changed like this, even during puberty,” he scoffs.
You chuckle at the sound and the image conjured up from faded scrapbook pictures.
Spencer smiles too—just for a second—before he remembers that he is sad.
“It’s just… it’s happening so… fast,” he says like a whimper.
After a moment, you shrug. He seems almost offended by the motion until you explain.
“That’s okay, Spencer,” you whisper, “It’s okay if you have a hard time adjusting to change.”
His shoulders fall as he releases a shaky breath. Relief starts to creep back into his body, despite his fingers still twiddling with the string.
You look down at it and laugh because it is so much like how he used to be. A little bit better, even.
“You just need to remind yourself that… They’re good changes,” you insist as your hands fall and glide around his waist. It’s soft and pliant and reminds you of the peace you find when you lay in bed together.  You remember the smile he wore the first day he woke up without fearing the sound of a buzzer. You think about how he doesn’t seem afraid of his phone anymore.
When you look back up at him, your eyes linger on the subtle curve of his lips before they settle on teary eyes.
“You’re finally taking care of yourself the way you deserve, so things are going to look different,” you whisper before pulling him closer. You sway with his body, still perfectly him despite not looking exactly the same.  “And for what it’s worth, I happen to think you look wonderful.”
Spencer drops the string to hold you, instead. He chuckles, a soft and bashful noise that reminds you of the first time you met.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he sighs in defeat.
To console him, you provide another simple offering.
“Sweatpants, donuts, coffee full of sugar and syrup,” you hum, “I don’t know about you, but… I can get used to a life like that.”
“They’re nice, but…” he trails off. His body pulls away so that he can see that loving look in your eyes. The last bit of tension releases from weary muscles. Spencer gently rests his palm against your cheek. It’s warm and soft and exactly like it used to be before the scars.
“Of all of life’s pleasures,” he wonders aloud, “I still think you’re my favorite.”
You quickly note the conditional word.
“You think?”
This time when he smiles, it is brilliant and not at all bashful.
“Donuts are pretty good,” he jokes.
It’s such a beautiful sound that you don’t even have to wonder.
“You’re better,” you mumble against still-sweet lips.
And it only gets better from there.
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geminiwritten · 1 year
Text
hot dream ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you fall asleep in butcher’s sweater and have a rather steamy dream, not realising that everyone heard you moaning butcher’s name in your sleep
notes: this is so bad, and it makes me so sad because i was so excited to write it, but work has been so blegh that i just feel like i failed??? i don’t know, it’s definitely not my best writing, but it’s something! hope y’all can still enjoy!
warnings: swearing, google-translated french, some very incorrect chemistry, and a tiny bit of smut (i’m working myself up to actually writing it, i promise!)
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^ the sweater
word count: 4691
“It’s fucking cold in here,” you say, rubbing your arms as you step into the living room.
Frenchie and Kimiko are curled up under a blanket on the couch, and Butcher is lounging on the single seat sofa with his feet propped on top of the coffee table. You know MM is on his way back from Monique’s house with spare clothes and comforters, but you also know how caught up he can get when he spends time with Janine.
“You do not have a jumper?” Frenchie asks.
You shake your head, “The last sweatshirt I had was burnt to a crisp two weeks ago.”
New York City is quickly falling into winter, the air turning crisp and heavy clouds rolling overhead as news channels warn about impending snow within the week.
Kimiko looks up at you and wriggles her arms out of the blanket to sign an apology, gesturing to the jumper she wears as the only one she has.
Butcher sighs and pushes himself off the sofa, “I’ve got somethin’.”
The tiny butterflies in your stomach flitter to life, bouncing around excitedly at the thought of wearing Butcher’s clothing. You move a hand from your arm to your stomach and curse the stupid giddiness that this man aroused within you. It’s ridiculous, really, and just a stupid crush, but he never fails to elicit some sort of irritating physical reaction within your body every time he speaks.
He disappears into the main bedroom for a moment before remerging with a black garment in hand. “Here,” he says, handing it to you, “don’t get it burnt though, it’s my favourite.”
You give him a cheeky smile, “I make no promises.”
Your fingers brush his as you take the sweater from his hand, and his eyes capture yours in a stare you cannot break. His lip quirks into that gorgeous smirk you’ve come to enjoy so much, sending those stupid butterflies into a frenzy before he turns back toward the sofa.
You release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding and with numb fingers, find the bottom of the sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. His scent hits you like a truck, rushing through your nose and burning all the way to your lungs. Your chest squeezes around your erratic heart, your ribs aching as they struggle to contain the throbbing muscle. It feels like you’ve been punched in the sternum, and your limbs feel like jelly wrapped in the soft material saturated by his scent.
You know this sweater almost too well, having admired him in it countless times. It’s a little too big on you, but on him, it’s perfect. The thick material hugs his shoulders and fits his torso in the most delicious way. It’s ridiculous that he can make something as plain as this sweater look downright sinful.
“Better?” Butcher asks, his eyes sparkling with a mischief that makes you wonder what he knows.
You nod, “Much.”
Kimiko shuffles over on the couch so that you can squeeze between her and the arm, the side closest to Butcher. You try to focus on the lame action film playing on the television, but the smell of the jumper clouds your mind, and you can feel Butcher’s gaze wandering over to you every few seconds. You want to say something, but every string of words that come to mind are laced with innuendo and teasing, and although you’re very fond of flirting with this man, you’re not sure you can handle it in your current state.
The sun is well below the horizon by the time MM arrives back, his arms full of blankets and second-hand clothing. Kimiko takes two jumpers and a blanket before seeing herself off to bed, and MM does the same shortly after. Frenchie throws another blanket over himself and invites you to share his warmth while Butcher remains on the single sofa with nothing but his trench coat. After almost three movies, your eyelids begin to droop, and you let your head fall onto Frenchie’s shoulder as sleep slowly consumes you.
You startle awake, your mind swirling with images of Butcher. You can still see him hovering over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, and his wicked grin as he settles between your thighs. Heat pulses between your legs at the fading memory, and your skin feels like it’s on fire, phantom touches lingering in the shape of Butcher’s hands on your hips, your breasts, your throat.
You have to blink a few times before the living room comes into focus, bright light flooding the space through the drawn curtains as dust mites float through the air. The blankets covering you suddenly feel like they weigh a tonne, and you have to throw them off your sweaty body before you pass out.
“Good morning, mon petit rayon de soleil,” Frenchie greets you, sitting in the sofa where you last consciously saw Butcher.
“Hey,” you mumble as you sit up.
His grin is wide and cheeky, “Did you have a good sleep?”
“It was okay,” you reply, rubbing your neck, “as good as it gets on this old couch.”
“I did not have the heart to wake you,” he says, “you looked so peaceful and were… humming so contently.”
You frown sceptically, “Okay…”
MM is in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a goofy smile as he watches the eggs in the pan cook.
“What time is it?”
“Almost ten,” Frenchie responds.
“What?” you demand, “You let me sleep for that long? Don’t we have things to do today?”
MM chuckles, “We didn’t want to wake you, as Frenchie said, you were so content.”
Spikes of panic begin prickling your skin and your eyes dart from Frenchie to MM, searching their impish faces for any sign of what could be making them so smug.
“Where’s Butcher?”
“Monsieur Charcutier had to excuse himself,” Frenchie says, “but he is awake.”
MM serves the eggs onto two plates and carries them over to the table where Kimiko is sat. She grins at him before digging in to her breakfast, and your own stomach begins to rumble.
“I suppose I will get my own,” Frenchie sighs, pushing himself off the sofa and walking toward the kitchen.
“I’ll have some too,” you call after him, “thanks, Frenchie.”
He smirks at you with the carton of eggs in hand, “Anything for you, mon amour. How do you like your eggs?”
“Hard boiled,” MM replies before you can, snickering as he takes a bite of toast.
Frenchie giggles too, and he quickly turns toward the stove to avoid your dubious stare.
“What the fuck are you two on this morning?”
They don’t respond as their laughter continues to bubble. Frenchie waves a hand dismissively, still refusing to look at you, before placing a pot and a pan on top of the stove.
“I prefer fried,” you mutter, still frowning.
He nods and moves the pot back into the cupboard just as the doors to the main bedroom creak open. Butcher steps out in faded jeans and yet another hideous Hawaiian shirt with only three of the lower buttons fastened. His hair is a complete mess and his cheeks flushed red; he looks as if he’d just sprinted several blocks.
“You’re awake,” he states.
You nod, “So are you.”
He chuckles, “Been awake for a couple’a hours, love.”
MM is struggling with his breakfast, his laughter refusing to subside though he does his best to quell it, his whole face turning red. Frenchie has turned his back to you completely now, but you can still see his shoulders shaking as he giggles into his hand.
“Did I miss something?” you ask Butcher as he falls into the single sofa.
His smirk just as devilish as Frenchie’s, “Nothin’ at all, in fact, I think it’s me who missed somethin’.”
“Okay,” you sigh, “you’re all being weird, and I’m incredibly sweaty, so I’m going to shower.”
“Breakfast will be ready for you when you return, mon amour,” Frenchie says, “take your time cleaning your- uh, humidité.”
Butcher chuckles as another wave of mirth hits MM, and he begins to choke on his mouthful of food. You roll your eyes before turning on your heel and stomping toward the bathroom, leaving them to their stupidity.
The cold air nips at your bare skin as you strip in the bathroom, carefully laying Butcher’s sweater on the vanity before stepping under the warm shower spray. You take your time washing your hair and scrubbing your body, hazy flashes of hot touches and wet kisses invading your mind as you close your eyes and let the water soak your skin. By the time you shut the shower off, you’re thoroughly clean and a little dizzy with desire. You dry off before wrapping the towel around your body and gathering your clothes to dash across the hall toward your bedroom.
You can’t help glancing in the direction of the living room when you step out, your eyes locking with Butcher’s dark gaze for the split second it takes you to reach your room. Your pulse is thrumming at a ridiculous pace as you unwrap the towel and turn toward your dresser. You slip on a fresh pair of panties and jeans, and turn to the sweater you’d tossed on your bed. Your stomach grumbles impatiently while you procrastinate, and you curse quietly to yourself before slipping the sweater over your head without anything underneath.
The living room wreaks of burnt toast when you remerge from your bedroom, and Frenchie is swearing at the toaster in such fast French, you can’t possibly try to understand it.
“Did you ruin my breakfast?” you ask, walking past Butcher and leaning your hip on the kitchen bench.
“I did not ruin anything,” Frenchie says with a frown, “this good for nothing piece of shit machine did.”
You can feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head and you know it’s Butcher, but you refuse to turn around, instead joining Frenchie in the kitchen to take over the toaster. After a few minutes of patience, the toast pops perfectly grilled and you place two pieces on each of your plates before Frenchie tops it with eggs.
“So,” MM says when you and Frenchie join him at the table, “what’s today’s plan?”
“We need to go back to the old safe house,” Frenchie replies.
“The basement,” you note between bites of toast.
He nods, “We need to gather anything we left behind that might be useful. I am running out of materials and I know we left a stash of ammunition there.”
“Who’s to say it isn’t already gone?” MM queries.
Frenchie shrugs, “We do not know, but it is worth a try.”
You want to point out that it isn’t really necessary for all of you to go, but you know that will only end in an argument, so you focus on finishing your breakfast. Once you’re all done, MM collects the empty plates and begins washing up while the rest of you go to gather your things.
You pack a small crossbody bag with your phone and keys before tucking a sheathed dagger into the back of your jeans, just in case. When you step back into the living room, Frenchie and MM are waiting by the door, whispering and giggling about something until they see you approach. You want to demand they let you in on whatever stupid joke you’d missed out on this morning, but Butcher’s heavy footsteps capture your attention before you can speak.
“Righ’ then, lads,” he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, “let’s get on with it.”
Your gaze lingers on his lips as he speaks before trailing down his neck and bare chest, finding a mere two more buttons fastened than before. Heat rises to your cheeks, creeping all the way up to the tips of your ears as your mouth begins to water and another blurry image of Butcher fills your mind. You see him on his knees before you, looking up with hungry eyes and parted lips, murmuring something filthy that doesn’t quite reach your ears.
You gasp, blinking rapidly to return to reality and finding three curious faces staring back at you.
“Are you okay?” Frenchie asks.
You nod, “I’m good, let’s go.”
You step between him and MM and walk out the door first, turning down the hall without bothering to wait. They’re giggling again by the time they catch up to you in the lobby, and even Butcher is wearing an amused smirk. He winks as he walks past you, pulling his car keys from his pocket before holding the front door open for the rest of you. Unlike every other time you’ve all been walking toward the car, no one calls shot gun. Frenchie simply opens the back door for Kimiko to slide in before he does, and MM follows without a single complaint.
You look at Butcher, “What the fuck?”
He shrugs, but his smirk is still saturated with amusement and the glint in his eyes tells you that this has something to do with whatever they were all being so smug about.
“You’re all pissing me off today,” you sigh, before walking around the car to the passenger’s side.
You’re not upset about getting the front seat, nor are you annoyed that you get to sit beside Butcher and practically drool over him while he has to pay attention to the road. You are, however, beginning to panic about what it is that they’re not telling you.
The drive isn’t long, and you spend most of it watching Butcher’s hands on the wheel, fantasising about how they would feel caressing every inch of your skin. It almost feels like a memory as you picture his fingers digging into your hips or wrapped gently around your throat, and you can feel your body growing hot within the thick material of his sweater. You practically fall out of the car when it finally stops, gasping for cool air and willing your mind to focus on the task at hand.
Frenchie leads the way down a narrow alley and pushes open the familiar metal door before the rest of you follow him into the dark, damp corridor of what used to be your hide out. You all stay silent for a few minutes, creeping around and checking for any unusual activity or signs that the place might be bugged or trapped. It’s definitely been ransacked, but there are thin films of dust blanketing almost every surface which indicates that whoever was looking in here had given up a long time ago.
“Okay,” Frenchie speaks up once deciding that you’re safe, “let’s see what we’ve got left.”
You split up and wander around the huge, open basement. There are two curtain dividers sectioning the space into what you used as ‘bedrooms’, and a single chipped, wooden door leading to the tiny bathroom at the very back. MM goes in there first, rummaging around for half a minute before declaring it empty.
“Is there anything in particular that we’re looking for?” you ask, turning to Frenchie, “Because there’s a lot of crap in here, and as much as I’d love for you all to rummage through my old underwear drawer, maybe we should-”
Before you can finish your sentence, Frenchie and Butcher take off, abandoning the shelves they were searching and knocking one of the curtain dividers over as they scramble toward the old dresser you used to use.
“Hey!” you shout, your eyes growing wide as you hurry after them.
They’re giggling like maniacs as they wrench the drawers open one by one, tossing out the few items of clothing that still remained in there before realising that there was, in fact, no underwear left behind.
“I was joking,” you say, “fucking pervs.”
Frenchie chuckles, “Can you blame us, mon amour?”
“Yes!”
MM is snickering in the small kitchenette as he picks through the lower cupboards one by one. As much as you want to enjoy the rare light-heartedness within the group right now, you can’t stop wondering why the hell they were all in such a giddy mood. Are they all high?
“Alrigh’ you lot,” Butcher says, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as his laughter subsides, “stop messin’ about, we’ve got a job to do.”
You roll your eyes and trudge toward where MM is, starting on the top cupboards of the small kitchen while they begin opening old crates and suitcases. Frenchie starts a pile by the stairs, stacking up anything he finds that might be useful or too valuable to abandon. There isn’t much, but there are still a couple of cases of ammunition and packets of powders that you know are combustible in some way.
“Wait!” Frenchie shouts suddenly, crouching beside an electrical socket. “Be careful. Somebody has shorted the wiring, intentionally or not, I do not know, but do not touch the outlets or anything still plugged in.”
You slowly retract your hand from beside the rusty old microwave. “What will happen?”
“You will probably be electrocuted.”
“Good to know,” Butcher sighs.
You all return to your ransacking with cautious hands and watchful eyes, skirting around anything electrical or made of metal. When you approach the refrigerator, you can hear a soft, crackling hum, and MM looks at you with wide eyes. It was never a reliable machine, but now it is most definitely a death trap.
You continue your search through the cupboards, knocking half-full packets of rice and flour off the shelves as you stretch up onto your toes to see inside. This job is probably better suited to someone with more of a height advantage, but you’ve always been stubborn, so you don’t bother asking for help.
The cupboard above the sink, adjacent to the stove – you always thought it was stupid to put the sink right beside the stove – reveals a cluster of cleaning products. You reach as far as you can, straining your arms to reach the bottles on the top shelf and groaning at the tension in your body.
Behind you, MM mimics the noise, only louder, “Ungh.”
You hear Frenchie snicker, “No, no, it was more like, mmmh.”
Your fingertips scrape the bottle closest to the front of the cupboard and you huff in frustration.
“Nngh,” MM groans again.
“Ahhh,” Frenchie moans loudly, before dissolving into another fit of giggles.
Determined to ignore them, you try to stretch up even further. Your back aches but your fingers find the bottle once again, scratching at it in an attempt to get it to move.
MM sighs seductively, “Ohh, yeah.”
“Mmm, Butcher,” Frenchie gasps.
Your stomach drops and you lose your balance, stumbling as you whirl around to face them. “What the fuck?”
Frenchie giggles as he meets your stare, “Oops.”
The bottle from the top shelf of the cupboard falls forward and knocks your shoulder, popping the cap off. The liquid inside spills all over your chest just as realisation hits you.
“That’s what all this has been about?!” you exclaim, “you heard me having a fucking sex dream and instead of waking me up, you listened?”
MM can’t stop laughing, with one hand holding his stomach while the other supports his body against the old dining room table. You’ve never seen this man so flustered, and if you weren’t so embarrassed, you might have enjoyed seeing him so overwhelmed with laughter.
Frenchie, however, has gone completely pale, stepping forward with a petrified expression. “Y/N, listen-”
“No,” you snap, “I won’t listen! You are such a-”
“Y/N!” he shouts, “do not move.”
The room falls silent and panic ripples through your body.
“Please, mon amour, stay still,” he pleads as he hurries toward you.
He steps carefully around the puddles on the floor before reaching down to pick up the now empty bottle. He studies the label for less than a second before looking back at you with panicked eyes.
“You need to take off your jumper, now.”
You frown, “What? Why?”
“This is isopropyl alcohol,” he says, “it is highly flammable. If anything in this place so much as sparks, it will catch fire and if the vapours ignite, this whole building could explode.”
“Fuck,” you mutter, looking down at the soaked front of Butcher’s sweater.
Frenchie turns to MM, “Get something, get a bag, and get ready to go.”
You remain still as your pulse quickens, “Frenchie.”
“Butcher,” he says, “you and Kimiko start taking things up the stairs, do not come over here.”
Butcher frowns, “Like hell I’m leavin’ her.”
“Frenchie,” you repeat.
“I will get her out, okay? Just take what we’ve got and let’s get out.”
“I don’t give a fuck about this crap,” Butcher argues, “I care about her, and I’m not leavin’ ‘til I know she’s safe.”
“Frenchie!” you exclaim, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”
The room falls quiet once again, and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as each of them turn to you with curious eyes.
“Nothin’?” Butcher asks, fighting the smirk tugging at his lips.
“Nothing,” you reply.
Despite the situation, Frenchie is the first to snicker.
“Come ‘ere,” Butcher says, “slowly.”
You step carefully out of the kitchen, avoiding every surface as your boots squelch against the wet floor. Once you’re in front of him, he shrugs off his coat and gestures for you to remove the sweater. Your heart pounds as you turn your back to him, and he holds his jacket up to shield you, though not quite high enough to block his own view. You hold your breath and pull the sweater up, squeezing your eyes shut as it slips over your head. You can feel his breath on your back as soon as it’s bare, and a whole different kind of heat rushes through you.
He drops his coat around your shoulders and you quickly hug it against your chest. His scent envelops you, even more so than it had with the sweater, and your nerves begin to ease almost immediately.
“Give it to me,” Frenchie says, holding a plastic bag open toward you.
You drop the sweater in and he ties it off.
“Let’s go.”
MM, Kimiko, and Butcher grab what they can before you all ascend the stairs. You hurry through the corridor and out into the alley, not stopping until you’re all safe inside the car.
“Did you get any on your pants, mon amour?” Frenchie asks.
You push the bottom of Butcher’s jacket off your legs to inspect. “Only a little.”
“It will not damage the clothing, but we should wash everything right away.”
You nod before glancing toward Butcher. His face is a mixture of concern and mischief, his eyes struggling to watch the road instead of you, sitting beside him and wrapped in his favourite coat.
“Should we tell someone about that situation back there?” MM pipes up.
“I will call somebody to clean it up,” Frenchie replies.
It isn’t long before you’re all quietly climbing out of the car and carrying your finds up to the apartment. Everyone kicks their shoes off at the door, per Frenchie’s instructions, and begins sorting through the bags and boxes of old materials and equipment.
Frenchie turns to you, “Give me your jeans.”
“Right now?”
He nods and you sigh, deciding not to argue. You turn away from them and open the coat, quickly unbuttoning your jeans and slipping them off before wrapping yourself back up. When you turn back around, he’s adorning that same silly grin that he’d been wearing all morning.
“Is this how it started in your dream?”
You roll your eyes and shove your jeans into his outstretched hand. “Just because you kind of saved my life, doesn’t mean I’m not still annoyed at you.”
He giggles as he takes your clothes and walks down the hall to the laundry.
“In his defence,” Butcher smirks, “I told ‘em not to wake you.”
“You what?”
He steps toward you and shrugs, “I liked hearin’ those pretty little noises you were makin’.”
The butterflies in your stomach burst to life and your pulse begins to race.
He leans forward as he whispers, “Liked it a little too much.”
You suddenly remember what Frenchie had said this morning when you asked where Butcher was: ‘Monsieur Charcutier had to excuse himself’.
“Now,” Butcher clears his throat, “you gon’a give me my coat back before you spill somethin’ else on it?”
You raise your brows, “You want it back right now? Right here?”
He glances over his shoulder toward MM and Kimiko before turning back to you, “Maybe not righ’ here.”
You step around him and walk through the kitchen toward the main bedroom, avoiding MM’s eyes as you pass the dining room table. You don’t bother closing the doors behind you, because sure enough, a pair of heavy footsteps follow closely behind. The door clicks shut and you turn around to look at Butcher. You let your eyes wander over his body, your mouth watering as you follow the collar of his shirt down his bare chest where the top buttons lay open.
“I’m not gon’a lie,” he says, his hungry gaze pinning you to the floor, “as much as I fuckin’ loved hearin’ you whisper my name… I can’t wait to make you scream it.”
His words punch you in the chest, knocking all the air from your legs as heat pools between your legs.
“Now, love,” he steps forward, “can I ‘ave my coat back?”
Your fingers tremble as you grip the lapels of the jacket, moving your shoulders so the material falls off before you open it up and let it drop to the floor. He draws one sharp breath, his eyes growing wide as they move up and down your body, devouring every inch of it as if he’s never seen anything so perfect.
He closes the distance between you and wraps his hands around your waist, fingertips digging into the flesh of your back with bruising pressure.
“D’you know how hard I came to the thought of you this morning?” he murmurs.
You can’t do anything but stare back at him, your lips aching to taste him, all of him.
“So fuckin’ hard,” he whispers before capturing your mouth with his.
You moan as you melt against him, your arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers tangling through his hair as he claims your mouth. His hands squeeze your waist and pull you closer, pressing your naked body against him. The friction of his shirt against your nipples makes you gasp, and he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his tongue past your lips.
“Can’t fuckin’ imagine,” he mumbles against your mouth, “how hard I’m gon’a come with you on my cock.”
The ball of tension throbbing below your stomach explodes, and you use all of your strength to push him back toward the bed. He chuckles as he falls back, his hand catching your wrist to pull you down on top of him.
“Tell me ‘bout your dream, love,” he says as you hover over him, “where was I?”
You plant an open-mouthed kiss on his collarbone before biting down and making him groan.
“You were everywhere,” you whisper against his skin, “marking me, claiming me.”
He moans again as you grind your hips down, the friction of his jeans sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.
“I don’t fuckin’ need to claim you,” he growls, his hands holding your hips as he thrusts up, “you’re already mine.”
He lifts you up enough to flip you onto your back, his body moving with yours and settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He dips down, his lips finding your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin before biting down hard. You moan loudly, and quickly smack a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
“I don’t think so, love,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pinning it to the bed, “I said, I wan’a hear you fuckin’ scream.”
END.
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cupidsdolll · 4 months
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3
- - - -
Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.
He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.
“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.
“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.
He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.
He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.
“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.
“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.
Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.
Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.
But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.
He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.
“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.
- - - -
When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.
He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.
He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.
- - - -
Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.
The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.
Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.
She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps
in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.
She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.
Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.
She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.
They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.
Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.
She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.
- - - -
Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.
She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.
“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.
“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.
“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.
“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.
“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.
“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.
“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.
She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.
“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.
“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.
She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.
“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.
“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.
She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.
“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.
“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.
“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.
“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.
“Anything but that.”
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