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#is it bad that my favorite line between the two of them
shaguro · 55 minutes
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synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡
angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡
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“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”
nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”
“oh, heh. my bad.”
nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.
it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.
unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“
“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”
“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”
“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”
satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“
without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.
truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.
both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 
kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.
“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”
nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.
your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”
“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”
anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”
“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”
anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”
“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”
“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”
that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.
“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”
you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.
there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.
in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 
“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”
“hmm . . . most of it.”
“the onlyfans part too?”
nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”
you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”
“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”
“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”
“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.
you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”
pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 
“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”
you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”
“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”
you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”
nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”
you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout you cross your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”
nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”
nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.
fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon roll and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”
you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.
you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”
nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his blazer pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.
                                 kento nanami
                            chief operating officer
               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.
                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx
now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.
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tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy
© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.
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jugdraljester · 5 months
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Finally unlocked potential for Tailtiu just so I could do this.
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crystalkitty1220 · 10 months
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I’m planning on making an incorrect summary of ibvs and this was one of the first ideas i had
THIS REMINDS ME OF THE TIME I WAS BORED IN CLASS AND WASTED LIKE TWENTY PAGES OF MY NOTEBOOK BY SCRIPTING A "IBVS IN A NUTSHELL" THING
tags are just me being nostalgic
#it was so fun but the only joke i remember from it was that i called the nevin goop ''gak''#and planned for someone to say ''the gak is back'' when it appeared again#but i got bored of the whole thing after season one so i never ended up writing that part of it#i made a couple little sprites as well but the lines were too thick and they looked bad. even for in a nutshell sprites.#man ive gotta go find that again. gonna search for it in my notebook.#okay its been two minutes since the last tag and i found it#okay highlights:#''the demon king of high school has decreed it. he says monday 8am i will be deleted'' (heathers reference)#*closeup of issac* *closeup of the door to the art room* *zoom out to show the closet door in between them* ''well frick''#oh god i was so hostile towards chris in this. not even pointing out actual flaws; i just went straight for the jugular. oh poor boy.#KIDS BOP XTALE i guess i couldnt be bothered to simplify his backstory#''haha magic? that's dumb. why would magic exist? magic doesn't exist. you're nor magical. i - definitely - am not magical.#why would i ever be magical? if i was magical you would know but i'm not magical so yeah glad that's settled.#*talking to viewers* my name is nevin jovel. i have magic powers and do an amazing job at hiding them.''#*also talking to viewers* ''my name is drew jovel and nevin's a fucking idiot if he thinks i'm falling for that''#''and i'm chris!''#CHRIS JUST SAYING ''ANIME FALL'' anime boy frrr#''i didn't. not at all. i am a normal human being. i cannot do that by myself. what do you think i am? a wizard?#because i am no wizard i have nothing to do with wizardry i-''#okay nevin definitely had my favorite running gags. running gaks. hah.#charlie: ''my anime senses are tingling'' it would have been such a good place for a 'ghost sense' danny phantom reference :(#nevin: ''day 4 of hoping nothing supernatural happens'' . monika: ''hello!'' . nevin: ''why''#okay so in between every chapter i planned for there to be a screen with the chapter number on it#''nah i'm good'' [CHAPTER 12] ''that was your cue to leave''#WAS IT EVER CANON THAT DEZ FOUND THE MONIKA RITUAL ON WIKIHOW OR WAS THAT JUST SOMETHING MY MIND MADE UP#there's a reference to it here and i swear i wholeheartedly believed it was canon for months#''never trust a wikihow ritual'' god that might be my favorite singular sentence ive written here#''what do you mean? nothing happened. it was just a normal day. nothing witchy happened i have nothing to do with witchcraft#it was just a stalker yes a stalker that i chased away with a hose not a witch that i scared away with witchcraft witches dont exist''#NOOO THATS ALL THE TAGS IT CAN HANDLE i'll have to reblog and add more
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fairy-angel222 · 18 days
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𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER
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✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s
✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.
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Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.
It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.
When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.
You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.
It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.
You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.
The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.
You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.
It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.
It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.
They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.
“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”
Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.
Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.
“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”
“Mhm, need you.”
He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.
“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.
His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”
You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”
He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.
“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.
“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.
“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.
Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”
You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.
The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.
“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”
Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.
“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”
“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”
You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.
“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”
Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.
“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.
His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.
He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”
Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”
You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”
“M’kay, love you Sugu.”
“I love you more sweetheart.”
It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.
That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.
You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.
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joonberriess · 7 months
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teeth. ☆ j.jk
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⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting
⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k
⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆
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“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”
The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.
You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.
Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.
“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.
“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”
Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.
“What number is this?”
“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”
“I don’t know.”
You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.
You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”
You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.
“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”
You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.
“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.
You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.
“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.
You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.
“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.
You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.
“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”
“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”
“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”
You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.
He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.
You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.
The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.
“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.
The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.
“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.
He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.
You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.
“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.
You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.
You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.
He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.
You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.
He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.
“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.
“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.
A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.
He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.
“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.
Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.
“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.
You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.
There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.
“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.
Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.
“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.
A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.
He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”
You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.
He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.
You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.
From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.
“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.
You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.
“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.
His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.
“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.
“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.
He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.
When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.
“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.
“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.
Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.
“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.
A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.
“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”
You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.
“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.
You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.
He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.
You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.
“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.
You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.
+
Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.
“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.
“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”
A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.
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cerisereids · 25 days
Text
𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.
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pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader
w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)
summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.
warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope
a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.
hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.
you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.
it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.
after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.
“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.
your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?
“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.
“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.
“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.
“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.
you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.
j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.
if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.
you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.
“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.
“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.
his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.
“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.
“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”
you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”
you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.
paperwork it is.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.
you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.
“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.
you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.
you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.
“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.
“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.
your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.
“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.
“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”
“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.
“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.
you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.
“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.
“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”
you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”
just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.
“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.
“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.
“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”
before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.
as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,
“she brought penelope?”
had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.
“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.
“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.
you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.
“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.
“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”
time stops.
“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.
“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”
your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.
he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.
you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.
you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?
“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.
“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”
your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.
“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.
“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.
“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.
his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.
“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.
as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.
“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.
it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.
spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.
“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.
the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.
“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.
“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.
“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.
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murdrdocs · 1 year
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plsss do fem!reader getting a call from ethan!ghostface 😩 could be smutty or maybe 16+!! also ur writing is so good wtf
ahhh thank you so so much i'm glad u enjoy it! i rlly liked this request :)) this is SUGGESTIVE 16+ but not smut
Sometimes, truly, if you sit in silence for long enough, you start to consider that maybe you aren’t the best person, morals wise. 
You have your good qualities: helping old ladies cross the street, dog sitting for your friends, helping out sick relatives, doing good deeds without having to be told so. 
But the one bad trait, the one you were currently indulging in, seemed to outweigh everything that was good about you. 
Allowing some sick joke between you and your boyfriend to continue. 
As soon as Ethan switched from his usual, saccharine sweet voice, to the raspy, demanding tone of Ghostface, you should’ve told him to knock it off. Seriously. Not with that light, airy tone in your voice that showed how easily persuaded you are. 
But you couldn’t help but let him convince you to continue. Plus, you could’ve pretended that you hated it. Instead…
“Isn’t your line supposed to be: ‘What’s your favorite scary movie’?” 
Ethan, or Ghostface, chuckled. 
“See, you know the rules, sweetheart. Now, what’s your favorite scary movie?” 
You took a second to think, fiddling with the half completed puzzle that you and your roommates have been working on at the coffee table for two weeks now. 
“Probably Get Out. Does that count?” 
“Is that the one by that comedian, Jordan Peele?” 
“Yeah. It’s not really that scary, which is why I like it, but the plot and storyline is horrifying enough.” 
Ghostface hums and you decide to take a leap. 
“My boyfriend likes those traditionally scary movies, with the jumpscares and excessive gore.” 
He takes the bait. “Boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” 
“You didn’t ask.”
You take a seat on the couch, your eyes glancing over the window. Briefly, you considered drawing the curtains, but then Ghostface continued to speak. 
“Hm, maybe I should’ve. Does he treat a pretty girl like you right?” 
“Yeah, yeah, he does.” A beat. “How do you know I’m pretty?” 
“Because I’m looking at you, sweetheart.” 
Your breath hitched. You should have known as much, but just considering the possibility is one thing, having it confirmed is another. 
Attempting to play it cool, you stand to your feet and approach the window. “Really? Because I’m calling bullshit.” 
You pressed your face to the glass and used the hand that didn’t hold your phone to your ear to shield your view from the light inside of your apartment. You scanned the streets below, the windows across from yours, and anything else your eyes could reach, but you couldn’t see anything. It was late, there wasn’t much activity in your complex, and the streetlight that previously illuminated your section of the complex was still out. 
Ghostface chuckled condescendingly. “There’s no point in looking. You won’t find me.” 
Stepping away from the window, you surveyed the apartment. Nothing there, save for the organized mess left by yourself and your roommates. 
“But you can trust my word. I see how delicious you look in that little number. That tight shirt, those tiny shorts. Looking like a whore, begging to be fucked,” he spat the last bit as if the words were venomous. "maybe gutted," he toyed with the idea, “your boyfriend know you walk around like that?” 
Your eyes met the cameras in your apartment, the ones that your roommates decided were needed in this big city. You’d never been more thankful to have them. 
“He does,” you took a seat on the couch again, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and positioning yourself to where you could be seen by the camera. Your legs crossed, and you ran a hand along your thigh. “And he loves it. If he could see me right now I bet he would be cumming in his pants.” 
There was a hitch in his voice, barely noticeable, but there. 
You took his hesitation to spread your legs and trail a hand down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes flitted up to the camera, you smiled softly, lifted your hand in a wave, then stuck it into your shorts. 
“You said you’re watching me, right, Ghostface?”
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drudyslut · 2 months
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— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.
— CW: 18+ only !! cocaine use, alcohol consumption, sexual innuendo, strong language.
likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3
part one
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3 days later…
RAFE
“So.. Let me get this straight. Your dad, and Y/N’s dad, have formed some kind of plan to merge both companies.. And you have to marry Y/N for it to be the most successful?”
I snort. Leave it to Topper to have to go over the scenario a hundred fucking times before it finally clicks in his thick skull. I ignore him, grabbing the rolled up hundred dollar bill off the glass table and place it under my right nostril. Leaning forward, i place the other end of the rolled bill at the end of the perfectly formed white line, sniffing up the substance before dropping the bill and flopping back into the soft, white couch. Fuck, I love the burn this shit leaves behind. The way it makes my body tingle, clearing my mind of any bullshit I don’t want to think about.
Topper tries ruining my high again. “Rafe. C’mon man, we have to talk about this. What’re you going to do?”
I sit up, my eyes narrowed into thin slits at him. “There’s nothing to fucking talk about, Top. My dad and her dad have already signed our lives away. I’m supposed to marry the stuck up bitch in less than a month. I don’t want to think about it, so drop it.”
Topper groans, but thankfully, he drops the subject. I don’t know what he expects me to say. I don’t want to marry her. Marriage is the last thing I pictured myself ever doing, but even if I had decided to settle down one day, start a family, it sure as Hell wouldn’t have been her I chose. Y/N Y/L/N is the bane of my existence, and my polar opposite.
Where I like to have fun, and am riddled with issues from head to toe — thanks dad — she’s boring. She doesn’t get out, and she is issue free. Her family didn’t fuck her life up like mine did — well, until now I guess — and she doesn’t even want to change her ways. She’s stuck in the mindset of being the perfect princess. My dad always praised her when we were growing up. “Be more like Y/N, Rafe.” “Why can’t you act like Y/N? She’s a good girl.” and my favorite line “I wish I had Y/N as a daughter instead of you as my fuck up son”.
I shake the thoughts to the back of my mind. The last thing I want to do right now is think of fucking Y/N Y/L/N and the fact that come this weekend, the entire island will know we’re getting married. That’ll really fuck up my chances with getting any pussy before this wedding. That’s another thing. The girls still a fucking virgin. I mean, who the fuck is still a virgin at twenty-one years old? Y/N fucking Y/L/N, that’s who.
“You have to admit though, she is hot. And she’s a virgin, how longs it been since you fucked a virgin?” Top says, amusement lacing his tone as he lightly punches at my shoulder.
I roll my eyes. “She’s not fucking hot, Topper. She’s a bitch.”
Lie.
Y/N is a lot of things, but unattractive isn’t one of them. I would be lying to myself if I said she wasn’t fucking gorgeous. But I’ll never admit that out loud.
“C’mon Rafe. Lighten up. Maybe it won’t be so bad”
I bark out a laugh at that. It’s going to be fucking miserable. A loveless marriage. Handcuffs that I can’t break free from, even if I wanted to.
“Topper. Fucking drop it.”
He opens his mouth to speak but thankfully, Kelce comes barging through the front door. I quickly stand from the couch, making my way to my other best friend and mouthing a silent “thank you” to him for arriving when he did.
“Y’all ready?” Kelce asks, his eyes darting between Topper and I. Thankful for the intrusion and opportunity to drop this entire fucking subject, nod my head. “Let’s go”
-
The boys and I enter the Island Club. We come here quite often to just get drunk and forget about our shitty days. I am thankful for this tradition right about now. This whole marriage thing has had me stressed out for the last three days. I remember when Ward first came to me about it. He had told me that it was time for me to step up and do something good for the family.
“Son, a word?”
I roll my eyes, glancing at the girl laid beside me I tell her, “I’ll be right back”
My dad chuckles, his eyes glancing behind me and at the brunette that wears only my T-shirt and a pair of underwear. “Actually, you can get dressed and go. Rafe won’t be back up here until late tonight”
I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to protest, but my dad’s stern look has me quickly shutting my mouth. There’s never a point in arguing with Ward Cameron. He will win every single fucking time.
Turning to face Sofia, I give her a small smile. “Sorry, I’ll call you later”
She rolls her eyes but nods her head. She grabs her things from my floor before slipping on her white Nike tennis shoes and walking toward me. She positions all of her things in her left hand, her right palm pressed firmly against my chest as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a long kiss to my lips.
My father clearing his throat has me pushing her back softly. “I’ll call you.” I say firmly. She turns and exits my room. Leaving me all alone with my dad.
“You won’t be calling her” He states.
My narrowed eyes find his. “And why is that?”
“Because, son. You’re about to step up and do something good for this family, and I won’t have you fucking it up by sleeping around with some bartender from the club.”
I scoff. “What’re you-” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off.
“You’re going to be marrying Y/N Y/L/N.” He says matter-of-factly.
“Rafe? You good bro?”
The sound of Kelce’s voice rips me from the memory. I slowly turn my head to face him, his dark brown eyes filled with slight concern.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Yeah. I’m good. Lets get fucking drunk”
Kelce and Topper nod their heads and begin making their way toward the bar. I follow them closely behind, but freeze in my tracks when I see her. Sofia. I never did call her, and it’s been three days since she was last in my room. I know she’s going freak out on me. If she doesn’t, i’ll be surprised.
I clear my throat and roll my neck before continuing my way up to the bar with my friends. I finally reach Kelce and Topper, they’re already ordering. “Rafe, whatcha drinking bro?” Kelce asks while looking behind his shoulder at me.
I open my mouth to speak but Sofia’s narrowed eyes landing on mine the second she hears my name has me clamping my mouth shut. I give her an awkward nod, debating on just leaving. That’s not who I am though, I don’t run away like a scared little bitch, so instead I order, “Whiskey. Neat.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ll call me, huh? It’s been three days, Rafe. What the fuck?”
I hear Kelce and Topper snort out a laugh. I glare at the back of both their heads. I’m friends with fucking children. Turning my attention back to the short brunette, I sigh heavily. “Situations changed, Sofie.”
She scoffs at that. “Well, it would be nice to know that you had just planned on fucking me and never calling again. I wouldn’t have ever looked at you twice.”
Topper slings an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he would have called had he not found out later that day that’s he’s marrying Y/N Y/L-”
I throw my elbow into Topper’s side, making his arm fall from my shoulder as he groans in pain. “What the fuck was that for?” He demands.
I roll my eyes, and put my focus back on Sofia. “Look, like I said. Situations changed. I won’t apologize for not calling you, we never said it would be more than sex between us anyways”
Her mouth falls open and tears begin to well up in her chocolate brown eyes. I sigh. This is the thing about women. They always expect so much more than you’re willing to give. I never planned on having a relationship with Sofia, and she knows that. But now, I’m the bad guy because she was all but thrown out of my house and I never called.
She lifts her eyes toward the ceiling above her, blinking back her tears before her eyes find mine again. “Well, good to know. Let me get those drinks for you guys.”
I let out a deep exhale, turning to face Topper and Kelce. They both have shit eating grins on their faces. “What?” I snap.
Topper chuckles. “Nothing. You better hope she doesn’t spit in your drinks all night” He jokes.
I run a hand down my face. Tonight was supposed to help me unwind, not cause more fucking unwanted stress. “I never fed her lines of false hope, so I don’t know why she’s freaking the fuck out.”
Kelce chuckles this time, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t they all freak the fuck out when it comes to you? I mean c’mon Rafe. You can’t ever sleep with a girl without her expecting more.. I just hope you’re prepared for the long list that’s going to come for your throat when this engagement is announced.”
I sigh for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. He’s right. I have never been serious about any of the girls I slept with. They all wanted more, but every single time I felt they were getting to attached, I stopped calling or texting them. It was better that way. I didn’t want anything serious, and now, I’m being forced into something super serious. Fuck, my life really sucks doesn’t it?
“Here. Drink up, you need it.” I hear Kelce say. I turn to face him and he has his left hand extended toward me, my glass of whiskey in hand. I quickly snatch it from his grip and throw it back, downing the amber liquid in one gulp. Turning to face the bar, I slide the glass back toward Sofia. “Another.”
-
Two hours and multiple glasses of whiskey later, I’m drunk. The room sways a bit, and I reach my hand out to grip the patio railing. I hear Topper laugh from the right of me. “Dude, you’re fucking wasted.” He laughs out, placing his hand on my shoulder to help keep me upright.
“I- I am not wasted, Top. I’m just… Buzzed” I lie.
He opens his mouth to speak but he quickly slams it shut, the sound of his teeth clashing together has me turning my full attention on him. His brows are raised and his eyes look like they’re going to pop from his skull as he stares intently behind us.
“What the fuck are you looking at? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” I joke. But he doesn’t laugh, and that makes me nervous. Topper laughs at the dumbest shit, so for him to remain staring behind us with a look of pure shock in his eyes, it has me wondering what just happened.
My body sways to the side as I try to turn and face the direction he’s looking, but his hand on my shoulder has me stopping in place.
I narrow my blue — possibly bloodshot — eyes on him. “What the fuck, Top. Speak!”
He clears his throat. “I- Uh.. Y/N just walked in with some of her friends.”
That has my attention. I quickly turn my body, falling forward a bit but catching myself with the help of the railing again. She stands at the bar. And she looks fucking delicious right now. For a girl who has never taken it past kissing a man — if she’s even kissed a man — she sure knows how to dress the part of any other girl on this island. She wears a black, leather skirt that hugs her curves and ass nicely. A tight, white cropped top and a pair of black heels that add a few inches to her height. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and all I can think of is wrapping my hand in it and pulling her head back as I fuck her from behind.
What the fuck? Why am I thinking of her like this? I fucking hate her. My soon to be wife. She’s a fucking stuck up, prude bitch. My mind tells me to stop staring, reminds me that I can’t fucking stand her. But my cock is screaming the complete opposite.
Without thinking, my legs begin to carry me toward her. I come to a stop right behind her, clearing my throat, causing her head to whip in my direction. The moment her eyes find mine, she’s rolling them. The act alone is fucking sexy. I picture her eyes rolling into the back of her head while my face is buried between her legs, devouring her sweet cunt. Fuck. Stop thinking of her like this Rafe, you’re just drunk, and horny. Any girl would do, but for some fucking reason, my mind is consumed with her.
“What the fuck do you want, Rafe” She sighs.
I smirk at the anger that radiates from her. “Just coming to say- just coming to say hey to my future wifeeee.” I slur. She rolls her eyes as they find mine again.
“You said hey, now run along. We don’t need to pretend to like each other right now.”
Maybe it’s just because I’m drunk, but her words stung. She really hates me doesn’t she? I mean, I hate her too. Don’t I? Yes, Rafe. She’s a stuck up bitch who acts like she’s better than everyone. But my drunken mind has me sighing as I say, “You really don’t like me, baby?”
Her body stiffens, eyes wide as she stares back at me. “I- Don’t call me that.”
I smirk. I have her worked up. Reaching out my left hand, I push a few strands of hair behind her ear before I run my fingers down the side of her face. She sucks in a shaky breath and flinches away from my touch.
“Rafe… Please just let me have a night out with my friends. In two days, we’re announcing to the entire island that we’re getting married, and I’d like to live the last two days of my life without you around… Lord knows I’m about to be stuck with you.”
My eyes narrow and I take a step toward her. You’re drunk, Rafe. Keep your cool. My large hands reach for her face, cupping her cheeks as I lower my face closer to hers. I don’t miss the way her chest rises and falls rapidly from my close proximity. She’s nervous. It’s going to be so much fun having her all to myself. Even if I hate her, pussy is pussy. And this is pussy that’s never been touched. She’s all mine to play with. To fuck. To break. To train. She’ll be my own personal whore by the time I’m done with her.
My glassy, blue eyes search her face. I half expect her to shove me away, and I’m so drunk I wouldn’t be able to fight back on it. But she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes find mine. That’s it, be strong baby girl. I like the tough girl act.
“Baby, you’re going to be crawling on your hands and knees begging for me to touch you. To kiss you. To please you. You can act like you hate me now, Lord knows I can’t stand you. But even I can admit, you’re fucking gorgeous. And I know you find me somewhat attractive.” I pause, placing my lips on the sensitive skin of her neck and leaving soft kisses, making her hiss in a breath. “I know this isn’t what either one of us wanted, but we have no choice… Why not enjoy the game?”
Her beautiful eyes narrow into slits and her lips thin. She blinks a few times before slapping my hands from her face. I stumble back a little, but catch myself on the bar, giving her a slow smirk.
“Fuck you, Rafe!” She hisses before grabbing her purse and storming off to the locker rooms.
I smile to myself as I watch her storm off. She’s mad now, but I meant what I said. She’ll be begging for more after I finally touch her. She can pretend now, and I’m not saying I’m falling for her. But Topper was right. She’s hot. Might as well enjoy the game and the perks, right? Letting out a small laugh, I turn and make my way back toward my friends, adjusting my hard cock that’s straining against my pants in the process. This is going to be fun.
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RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust @sylverdragon
rafe masterlist | taglist form | series masterlist
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seattlesellie · 5 months
Note
Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?
Sorry of that's too much
perfect fit. ♡
screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”
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She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.
The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.
Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.
You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.
You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?
She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.
Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.
You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.
“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”
"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.
Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”
Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”
You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —
“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"
“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”
“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.
“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.
“I’ll make it fit”
“Know I will”
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writingoddess1125 · 8 months
Text
You take care of their hair
You x One Peice Characters
Support me on Ko-Fi
Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp
Buggy
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Buggy hair is long and truthfully very beautiful. He takes pride in it secretly even if he doesn't let anyone know- When you get there and start taking care of his hair it flourishes.
"You have such pretty hair!" Yoj gush as you moisturize the long blue locks
"SHUT UP!"
He is like a l'oreal model at this point and will step out to do shows with his hair down sometimes. Loves it when you wash his hair too and will make cute noises when you scratch his scalp. Enjoys the nice scents you add to his hair as well.
"Oi- I like the Candy Apple scent more-"
Sanji
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Oh Sanji is a sap for this, Taking your willingness to care for his hair as a show of love- however that's for you to decide if it is.
"If this is how we say we love each other I gladly accept~"
His hair can be a bit tricky, It's a lot thicker then most would assume and can hold scents of whatever he was cooking. Paired with the fact his hair will be lighter on top compared to the bottom due to the sun bleaching it. However he does love it and finds cleanliness important.
"Vanilla please my love~"
Luffy
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He is a struggle- Getty Luffy lanky ass in the bath is a pain in the ass and washing his hair is even more troubling. His wide curls like just act as a magnet for everything it seems and you have to go picking through it.
"Is this a damn cookie?!"
Once you get his hair to be a untangled it's really pretty. Dark shiny curls that reflect the sunlight like a halo. While he still fussed he's more willing as time goes. Will randomly talk about whatever comes to mind, or eat snacks as you comb through his hair.
"I like the Ocean Breeze soap more (Y/N)"
Zoro
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Oh Zoro- He tries to dodge you every chance he gets. It takes you catching him when he was hiding in the storage closet and ended up falling asleep.
"You smell like a barn- Move you ass..." You will threaten. Making him grumbled but comply non the less.
He's just as bad as Luffy but will just sit and pout as you wash his hair. Luckily it's short but it can get very oily- especially with how much he trains. You will also help him trim his hair, keeping it as even as possible. While he doesn't say it, he does appreciate the care. Will fall asleep as you do his hair.
"Mint- Mint is fine..."
Usopp
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While you do wash his locs for him most of your time is spent separating and retwisting them. Buying good oils for his hair and spending a least and few solid hours retwisting the new growth on his hair.
"How does your hair grow so fast?!"
You question as you sort through the locs one by one and every two weeks washing them and reapply products to them. Usopp appreciates the help truthfully, since it takes away something he has to do for himself. He will tell stories as you do his hair, talking about made up adventures and tell jokes.
"Hmm I am tied between the Coconut scent or the Passionfruit both remind me of this amazing adventure I had once-"
He picks both.
Mihawk
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Mihawk is used to doing his own hair, smoothing it back to fit under his had with ease. However when your jolly ass appears it seems you must take control of the situation.
He doesn't mind however, enjoying the pampering. Enjoys the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair. His Hair needs some serious moisture so you add a small bit of oil to it, Especially since his hair is surprisingly thick, dense and likes to frizz. It's not surprising to find some fuzzies from his hat in his hair as well.
"Your hair spikes up so much- Like a chicken ass-"
Will grumble in disagreement of the comparison however continues to let you handle his hair, will also take care of his beard and adds nice beard balms as well as line it up for him- If he feels like letting you. Will read while you do it and sip his favorite wine.
"The bergamot scent is very nice-
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takami-takami · 7 months
Text
Like Animals.
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kinktober day 4: sex pollen.
includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut
warnings— afab!reader. dubcon (sex pollen/heats, but both have been pining like idiots). breeding if you squint.
keigo's beloved crush sidekick gets hit with the unluckiest quirk possible. he quickly discovers his rut suppressants ain't shit.
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Through all the horrors and adverse life events Keigo has endured in this line of work— brutal near-assassinations, negotiations with international crime syndicates, purchasing sugar-free canned coffee with Splenda substitute by mistake before his morning shift— he has always been able to find a silver lining in the darkest of moments. 
Which makes it infinitely more concerning that for the first time in his life, he nearly whines through his teeth the words, "why me?" 
A palm drags once down his face, thumb and index finger pulling down his darkened eye bags. His hand collects the beads of sweat and stops to rest over his mouth. 
He supposes this must be his penance for taking a risk and trusting faulty intel. 
Keigo's informant told him the villain he and his darling sidekick were meeting would have a limited-ranged fire quirk, so the diligent hero stuffed ointment and cold packs in his pockets before leaving just in case. 
If he had known the villain was a plant heteromorph and possessed a heat-inducing mist quirk instead, and that the person he was hopelessly in love with had a bit of a crush on would be caught in the direct line of fire? 
He would have brought a paper bag to hyperventilate into instead. And some prayer beads. The god to which the prayer is delivered doesn't necessarily matter, he thinks. He'd simply pick one and drop to his knees in a bid for mercy.
"I'm taking you to a medic," Keigo puts his foot down for the fourth time this evening. 
"Fuck no," you groan from the couch, shifting to squeeze your thighs together. It offers not even a modicum of relief from the incessant throb. "Do you want my cause of death to be humiliation? Is that your plan, genius? 'S bad enough as it is that you're here." 
The subtext is unspoken, but clear to him through your adorable pout: I only trust you to see me like this.
It's unlucky that the man you've had the most innapropriate-for-work crush on for the better part of two years happened to be the one beside you that day. And it's just your sorry luck, you lament, that Keigo would also be the one to catch you, to fly you home cradled in his painfully capable arms, to refuse to leave your side and insist on making his favorite chicken soup for you in a desperate flail of support. 
He'd respect your decision and leave, should you ask him to. You know that. And yet the humbling truth gnaws at your pride: doing so wouldn't do much to save your image at this point. He’s already seen you like this, you grumble. The proverbial cat has long since escaped the bag, waltzing its way over to rub its purring body against Keigo’s leg to your abject horror.
If you close your eyes, you can attempt to trick your brain into thinking this affliction is a flu of some kind. 
Yes, this is just some common cold. You're wearing nothing but your work partner's shirt (your clothes were contaminated by the quirk's dust, Keigo explained, speaking in that strict work mode voice that makes you picture your mouth stuffed and drooling somewhere beneath his desk and between his spread legs). You pull the damned fabric down over your core as you try your hardest to not writhe in fits of pleasure underneath the blankets, rubbing your thighs together for any friction against your swollen clit.
All symptoms of an affliction of the flu, of course. 
You don't need to reach down and touch to know the slick would string those thighs together, should you attempt to pull them apart. 
Keigo knows that, too. But he doesn't say anything about it. 
You would be mortified if you were aware of the truth. 
That he knows everything.
Keigo knows exactly how you ache; like you're constantly on the precipice of an orgasm, perpetually ablaze from the heavy heat scorching your body from its surface to the boiling core. 
You try to suppress your glee as he spoon feeds you the broth, reminding yourself that this is just what good friends do for each other.
Friends coo praises at each other when they swallow, friends tilt each other's chins up with one finger and mutter things like that’s a good dove and you can take another as they watch their throat bob in tandem. 
Friends shiver from their wingtips down their spine when they pull the spoon back. They let their gaze linger for just a second on those lips that open wide, aching to touch.
Ever the gentleman, Keigo stays lowered to his haunches and places one hand over your forehead to check for a fever, redirecting his focus toward taking inventory of your vitals. He doesn't wince when he hears your moan at the contact, even though the pitiful sound pings at his weak points. His avian instincts remind him he needs to protect you, please you, take care of you; to make it go away, to fix that feeling he knows better than anyone is aching like a bruise between your thighs. 
He doesn't allow his eyes to wander astray or trail their way downwards, especially when you're in such a vulnerable state; but his professional assessment is that if he could only wet his appetite, the flat of his tongue alone could— 
He shakes his head and blows a puff to cool the soup, raising another spoonful to your lips. 
"Here. Another. You need to keep your energy up," he reminds you, voice stern. It's nearly clinical and achieves the opposite of its desired effect.
Your heart rate picks up to thump at a steady, thrumming beat at the innocuous gesture of domesticity. 
How have you never noticed how capable of a mate Keigo would be…? He’s all musculature and sincerity, sharp ridges at his knuckles and soft curves at the small of his waist where he only trusts you to touch.
You huff an involuntary moan. 
He picks another god to praise that the couch you're laying on obscures his lower half. 
Today, Keigo discovers his suppressants are only designed to reduce the chance of a rut being triggered. It brings the possibility of it starting in the first place to a comfortable near-zero, allowing him to carry out the spring and fall seasons as if he were entirely quirkless.
But if that rut passes through the blockers' biochemistry in, say, the event Keigo's luck rears its ugly head, for example… It does fuck all to reduce the actual symptoms. 
More importantly than his own anguish, however, is this: his mate work partner got hurt because of him— hurt being a stretch, he'd know if he weren't overthinking so much, given the blissed out panting just two feet away from him; but you’re probably suffering and it's all his fault. It’s all because of an unlucky, once in a lifetime slip up from Keigo Takami himself, and he can't detangle himself from the guilt.
If drowning in the unexpected whirlpool that is his first rut in half a decade is his penance for the crime, then Keigo will hang his head and take it.
The huff he lets out is your last straw.
"I'm going to my room," you state, moving to leave like you left the stove on and are trying to avoid an upcoming house fire.
When his hand darts out to stop you, the touch against your shoulder sends shockwaves down your stomach.
He's touching you. He's taking such good care of you, feeding you, providing for you in his nest and now he's touching you?
It sends your hormones into overdrive. 
You'd do well to conceal it, if his heightened instincts couldn't smell your desperation. 
"I'm afraid it ain't that easy, dove," he warns, eye contact averted. "I'd avoid doing that, if I were you." 
Keigo schools his expression, but not before you catch a flash of something hungry. 
There's no chance in hell he's letting you out of his sight. Not like this. You're confined to the couch while he keeps an eye on you. Attempting to fix it yourself will only make the feeling unfathomably worse, something he tries to communicate to you with a look that only ends up making him look like a kicked puppy.
You squint right back when you process the implication of his words, eyes raking down his form in suspicion. 
"How do you know all this, anyway," you ask.
Keigo goes silent, hand concealing his mouth. 
Ah, it hits you. 
Bird things.
Your head falls back against one of the numerous pillows your partner propped up behind you.
"The couch is soft," you murmur, situating yourself against the cushions and throw blankets he so carefully arranged. You trail your fingertips along a silk pillow. Keigo slams his eyes shut.
"Please don't say it like that." 
"Why not?" Your lids droop, heat overtaking your better judgement. Tentatively, you play along the bounds. You allow your hands to run along the soft divots of the blanket covering your body, squeezing your chest and pinching the peaks. "It's like a little nest, isn't it?" 
His hand drags down his face before pinching his nose bridge, suppressing a whine. "Baby, please—" 
"You don't wanna join me?"
"You don't know what you're talking about. It's just the heat," Keigo tells himself more than you. "For the love of God, dove, stop talking—"
"But it hurts, Kei'." It’s a low blow, judging by the protective coo that escapes his lips. 
Fed up, he leans forward and swings his right leg over your hip, crawling atop you as if his body has a mind of its own, utterly bogged by desire and yanked like puppet strings.
With him kneeling tall above you, the bodysuit of his hero costume hides absolutely nothing. The musculature is quite impressive, actually. Proof of his viability as a mate— all dominant and masculine and gorgeous.
And at this angle, you can see the most painful erection straining against his pants. 
"I need you, Kei'. I need— mmph!" 
A palm silences you; slapped down, hot, imposing, and heavy like a weight against your mouth. 
The authority of the action makes your cunt clench; and Keigo would die before he lets that feeling go to waste, so his hips drop down to grind once against it. 
Your eyes go wide, doughy and stunned, darting down in haste, following the trail of his thick bicep up toward the disciplinary scowl on his face. 
His nostrils flare with the heaving in his chest, eyes screwed shut with his last slivers of patience holding its grip on his psyche.
"One more word," he says, pulling his hand away. "One more word and I'm ripping this blanket off and fucking you raw." 
After a moment of silence, you speak.
"Please." 
Keigo is wordless when he unbuckles his belt and lets it— and his inhibitions— drop with a satisfying clink.
The reality of what you've gotten yourself into comes crashing down as it hits you how utterly fucked you are. The scaffolding of years of sexual tension comes crumbling down like bricks to rubble, a city of restraint reduced to pure, animalistic desire. 
Years of Keigo's eyes darting away when you nonchalantly change into your uniform in front of him, even though he never seemed bothered by any of his other peers doing the same; years of you both curling in on yourselves at the furthest edges of the bed you had to share, cramped close in those under-the-radar motels on stealth missions; years of the words "idiot, can I kiss you," held back by your lips as you watch him moan when he sinks his teeth into his comfort restaurant's chicken teriyaki every stupid Friday night, sitting cross-legged and at home on the carpet of your apartment floor. 
Not a single word is exchanged as he pulls his cock free from its confines, nearly too thick for his fingers to meet when they wrap around it. He tosses the blanket to the side with haste, dragging your shirt (his shirt) up to your collar, exposing your chest when he lines his cock with your entrance. 
"Please, Kei'," you sniffle. "Hurts." 
"Oh, I know, baby... I know." His lips are pursed when he shushes you, tracing your cheek with his palm. "I'll make it go away."
When your lips meet, it's like static electricity; and it's entirely remorseless.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he groans against your mouth, dragging his length along your sticky thighs before plopping the thick of it atop your soaked cunt. 
"So wet for me," he reveres, dragging the plump tip through your mess to get it slick enough to rub against your clit. 
Your rutting hips buck with impatience in an attempt to glide his length against your swollen pussy, but that only serves to fuel his desire; and those desperate little whines only feed into his insatiable need to fuck, to breed you until you're silent. 
Until you shut the fuck up. 
Those pathetic little sounds are music to his ears, a siren's song that used to play only in his most shameful fantasies; the ones that kept his fist tight around his cock the moment he returned home after missions, the sight of you panting and spitting blood after battle with a smile on your face still fresh in his memory. 
Keigo wants to hear you moan. 
But his rut needs to fuck you wordless with satisfaction. 
"Oh, fuck," he hitches, shifting his hips back and forth to the tune of the audible shlicks below. Unable to stay upright any longer, his chest falls flush into yours in a rut-afflicted haze, rutting against you like animals. 
When he slips his cock inside, it's with a kiss to muffle his voice.
And he wastes no time setting a punishing pace, aided nicely by the slickness that coats the sides of his cock. The legs of the couch surely must be scraping indents into the floorboards, judging by the creaks that mingle with the sounds of his belt buckle at every thrust. You'd notice if either of you were lucid enough to care. 
It's a brief consideration of a possibility of an afterthought, like a sheepish voice behind a roaring crowd. 
Pulling out, that is. 
Yeah, if he were a stronger man, he could probably will his hips to stall. There's a chance someone far stronger than him would hiss when he does it. His cock would weep in denial of that sweet, velvet entanglement, dripping out in the cold when he fists himself to completion mere inches away from what might as well be the center of his goddamn universe.
But when it comes to you, when it comes to his rut, Keigo is not a strong man.
He allows his cock to throb in the vice of your cunt, instead.
"God, baby," he moans into your neck, wings flapping once, twice with each thrust, shedding a few feathers before straightening out and grazing the ceiling behind his back. "Baby. Oh, baby. You're so tight. You're so— fuck!"
He's babbling, but so are you. Legs hooked across the small of his back, you bump your hips as best you can to aid in his efforts; and with your last shreds of lucidity, you decide for the both of you how things will end. 
With watery lashes, you open your eyes enough to blink away some tears and clear your vision just enough. Your gaze crawls up his legs that are still clothed to the thighs, peeking over the curvature of his ass and up his shuddering spine— all to mark onto your scarlet red prize.
When you entangle your fingers into the downy feathers at the base of his wings, it shoots straight to his cock and he spills.
With eyes wide open and a strangled choke at the back of his throat, Keigo's hips stutter when he empties himself. With every throb comes another rope from the tip, sticky and excessive from the rut, mixing with your wetness as you crash over the edge soon after.
When the ringing in your ears ceases and you finally come to, it's to the sight of your now probably-more-than-a-work-partner pulling out and staring between your legs as if under a trance, eyes glimmering.
"Kei', you okay?"
"Uh huh," he answers absentmindedly, utterly transfixed on the mess he made. 
It's strange, he thinks. Whatever urges his rut transcribed into cravings, every instinct that tugged at the avian etched in his DNA and called him to fill you pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having indulged himself at last.
His eyes flick back to meet yours.
"Does this mean I can kiss you at work now?" 
You snort. So that's where his mind goes in the end.
"It means a whole lot more than that," you say, rolling you both over so he lands square on his back.
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norrizzandpia · 7 months
Note
ooo i’m curious on what somno is! ive googled it and i’m interested… could you write a somno piece for lando please?
Somno is…… one of my fav things
Don’t Wake Up Yet (LN4)
Summary: When Lando gets home from a race weekend without his girlfriend, he just can’t wait.
Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT, dirtiest thing I’ve ever written, praise, soft dom lando, I NEED HIM SO BAD, lmk if its cringey I honestly can’t tell
Notes: this was conjured up after a very crazy moment of delusions on my part where i couldn’t get this idea out of my head and its very feral
Lando’s feet padded quickly across the floor as he came to his apartment door. His excitement to see his girlfriend was blinding, having not heard from her in a few days whilst they were both incredibly busy. It didn’t faze either of them. Their relationship was strong enough to withstand a period of no contact, however, that didn’t mean he didn’t yearn for her and the body that plagued his dreams at night. Lando’s keys were already in his hand, so when he reached the door, he was able to slide the key in and open it with ease quickly. His bags dropped in the foyer, although his feet continued moving. Finding his room, he opened the door quietly, knowing it was late and Y/n was most likely asleep. Sure enough, he found her lying in their bed with his pillow wrapped tightly in her arms, her shoulders peaking out from the duvet. He walked over, pulling back the blanket just a bit to kiss the skin of her neck. When his eyes traveled downward and he saw that no material hugged her torso, his eyebrows furrowed. Y/n was never the type to sleep naked, unless they had had sex that night and the two were too tired to put their clothes back on. Nevertheless, Lando’s curiosity got the better of him as he pulled the sheets up to glance down. What he found made the blood rush to his dick immediately.
Y/n, completely naked, as she snuggled into his pillow tightly as if she was wishing for the nights when he would take what he wanted.
This night, Lando thought, would be just like the others.
They had spoken about the kink briefly, so he wasn’t uncomfortable or worried when he drew the comforter back all the way to put the entire image of her bare on display just for him. He knew she was interested and open to this side of sex, something Lando was grateful for as he was reminded just how much he missed her. Nights of fucking his own hand would never be enough in comparison to her.
Thus, he kicked off his shoes, ridding himself of his sweatpants and hoodie before sliding into bed next to her. His boxers being the only piece of material left on his body, Lando’s cock strained tightly against them. He was suddenly impatient to get inside her, but, knew savoring the moment was the priority.
So, he decided waking her up to his head between her thighs seemed more enjoyable than wasting his pent up sexual anticipation on it.
His hand moved to wedge between her thighs as he lightly moved down the mattress, softly as to not wake her up. He was able to move her slightly, allowing her body to lay flat on the cushioned surface before pushing her legs apart and positioning his head right in front of one of his favorite body parts. He clocked the fact she was probably having a sex dream about him when he saw the wetness that riddled her folds and coated a portion of her thighs. He smiled triumphantly, happy she was missing him as much as he was missing her.
Urgent and worked up, Lando’s tongue reached out and licked a small line up her sex. When he heard a small whimper, he stopped and looked up. Checking for any signs of movement, he deemed her still unconscious before diving back in.
This time, he didn’t hold back. His tongue found her clit quickly, circling viciously before wrapping his lips around it and sucking harshly. More sounds emitted from his girlfriend’s mouth, but with trained eyes, he saw how she remained asleep. He was so enthralled with the way she tasted and the soft, warm skin of her cunt that his mouth became not enough. His hand, that was once gripping her leg, came to circle her hole. In an instant, his fingers slid in, pumping slowly in and out of her.
Tongue sucking and circling her clit, Lando shot his girlfriend another look when he felt her walls squeeze around his digits. Finding her eyes beginning to open, he pulled away from her just enough to speak, “Hi, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, but I’m going to try and show you right now.”
All she could mutter in response was a small hum, still slightly unconscious as she tried to gain her surroundings. Feeling his wet tongue and long fingers working her pussy, Y/n moaned softly as her hands trailed down her body to lace in his hair. Her face began to grind against his when his fingers sped up, his mouth just above her clit as he whispered, “Get yourself off to me, baby. I’ve missed your body so much. Missed the way it felt to have you come all over me.”
Still hanging out in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, Y/n let out a small whimper of his name before coming around his fingers, the digits slowing, but never stopping as to coax her through it. Her legs still shaking and her body laying limply below him, Lando moved up and kissed her lips softly. She was still drowsy and, as his hand caressed the side of her body, the other began taking his dick out of his underwear.
“Is this okay, my love?” He asked in her ear, his tip rubbing lightly against her clit.
She nodded, but it seemed to be inadequate when the friction stopped and he moved her face to look at him.
“I need words, Y/n.” He said firmly.
She nodded again, “Yes, this is good. Don’t stop, Lan.”
Her whiny voice only had his hard-on getting more painful as she stared up at him with half-lidded eyes.
“Don’t wake up, just yet.” He whispered back before sliding his dick into her.
A loud moan left both of them, her hands laying down by her sides as her laziness prevented her from having energy to grip onto him. The only grip she could give to him were the walls of her cunt, something he was in love with.
“Fuck, Y/n, you feel so good. Saved all this for my coming home gift, huh?” He said breathlessly, his body hunched over hers as he pounded into her, giving her no time to adjust.
Her moan was muffled by the way her teeth gnawed on her lip, “Missed you so much, Lan. Wished my fingers were you the whole time you were away.”
His ego inflated as he smiled down at her, “Yeah? Poor baby couldn’t get herself off properly because I fuck you too good for it to ever be the same.”
She nodded, moans leaving her mouth as she began to enter out of a slightly groggy state.
“This pussy’s all mine, huh?” He said, her nodding pushed him to go further, “Good, love, that’s good because I need this, you, for the rest of my life. Can’t go another day without this pussy.”
He continued to pound into her, his dick hitting deep spots within her that had her eyes rolling back. Through choppy moans, however, she was able to get out, “Race weekends, Lan.”
He shook his head, forehead coated in sweat as he angled his hips in a way that made his dick bulge from the inside of her stomach, “No fucking way, Y/n. I’m not doing that ever again. I can’t fuck my hand in the shower after I’ve won a podium. I need this pussy. I need this mouth,” He ran his fingers over her lips, “I need these tits,” Groping her boobs, he continued, “I need this ass,” His hand moved around her body to massage her butt, “And, most of all, I need you.”
She moaned loudly as he leaned back and grabbed her ass, pulling her hips up to sit slightly on his lap, so he could sheath his dick as far as he could inside her.
“Fuck, yes, Y/n. God, baby, I’m fucking drunk on you. Come, baby. Come, Y/n. Fuck, come for me.” He pleaded, snapping his hips at a rapid pace.
When she seemed too out of it to comprehend her quickly approaching release, Lando leaned over and whispered, “Come around my cock, baby. Mark it as your own. Fucking milk my cock, pretty girl.”
Seemingly, her mind was snapped back to reality and she was screaming out his name as they both came together. His hips continued to move in her, but at a slower pace. His eyes took her in, her fucked out state. He admired her messy hair and plump lips, the way her chest heaved up and down, as well as the way her hands twitched at her sides as if they were trying to reach for him. Lando’s hand left her ass to meet the twitching palm, grabbing it in his own hand and caging it. Her head lulled to the side, clearly still tired, before Lando pulled out. Her whimpers at the loss of contact had him laying a few kisses across her face before whispering something about going to get a warm cloth to clean the mess.
When he returned, he smiled at how his girlfriend had fallen asleep once more. His only option left was too slowly and gently wipe up the middle of her thighs and clean himself before sliding back in beside her, pulling her into his arms properly for the first time in days.
He breathed in her scent as his hand smoothed her hair down, listening to her breathing and mentally laughing at how easy it was for her to fall in and out of sleep.
Her ability to stay asleep, however, he deemed a plus.
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lunarluvbot · 3 months
Text
saturday sun
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
pairing : percy jackson x fem!reader
summary : a little surprise percy springs on you turns out to be one of the best afternoons at camp. or maybe that's just because you're with him?
requested : yes / no
willow's whispers : first pjo writing cause everything i see is for luke so if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself !! also im pretty sure this can be read for any godly parent. based on the song saturday sun by vance joy. I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE HOW BAD OR SHORT IT IS. I'm building up for my big fics.
warnings : literally nothing this is the most boring fic ever
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Where are we going?" You laughed, blindly following Percy as he helped you over a fallen log.
"Oh, just somewhere you'll love," He said, and winked. "At least I hope you do. Anyways, c'mon!"
The pair of you marched through the woods of the camp, laughing, talking, teasing, and enjoying moments of silence. The sun blinked lazily between branches of giant pine trees as if Apollo was comfortably stretching out on his throne.
"Here, stop here." Percy turned to you and gave you that smile that made you fall in love a little more every time you saw it. If that was even possible. "There's a pathway over here, be careful 'cause there's a lotta rocks over here."
You followed him once again, down a narrow sloping hill and arrived on a shoreline. A small oasis even. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, moss grew over everything, the grass was bright and stood tall as if no one's footsteps had ever crushed them down yet. Waves gently lapped the rocks and few shells scattered across the ground.
"Wow," You breathed, almost as if your normal volume would disturb this angelic peace. "When did you find this, Perce?"
Percy, who was flattening the weeds to sit on, looked up. "Huh? Oh, two days ago. During capture the flag. Then I came back yesterday to make sure some monster didn't live here and now I'm showing it to you," He finished setting up his bed that would make any Demeter kid cringe. "C'mere," Percy motioned for you to lay next to him.
You smiled and made your way over to him, easing yourself down on his patch of grass. The two of you were on your stomachs, watching the water swirl into memorizing, glittering, patterns. A sweet silence filled the air.
But the water wasn't what Percy was interested in. He just kept his eyes on you, admiring the way your face lit up when you heard your favorite bird call. The way your eyes seemed to shine in the golden god's light. The smooth curve of your lips that twitched when you smiled.
You met his eyes, the sea-green hue a painting of where the sky and the sea meet.
"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, lightly teasing him to pretend you weren't about to do the same staring as he was doing now.
Percy's eyes glinted and the wisps of his hair caught the sunlight perfectly. "No, you're just the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Art's gotta be appreciated right?"
"I guess but shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"Aw hey, quit stealing my line!" He said, poking your stomach. A giggle escaped you, one Percy knew he would fight any number of monsters to hear again.
"It's not your line! Where's your copyright claim?"
Instead of answering right away, Percy wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. He tucked a fly-away strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips gently to yours. It felt like the first breath of spring, when the flowers peek from their earthly shield and remind the world that only precious things take time.
"It's right here."
And he kisses you again.
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omitea · 1 month
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𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂���� 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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. ft. highschool! gojo
. content. fluffity fluff fluff.
. note. he’s such an idiot i love him. tried my best lol.
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☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is known as the cocky boy who also doesn’t know how to hold his tongue, but when he sees you for the first time— his façade comes crumbling down along with the ounces that are known as his communication skills.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who thinks he has a chance with you because according to him, he’s very much likable and you must be insane if you were to turn him down.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who follows you around school like a sad little puppy that has been abandoned in a dark alley. and you can practically see his tail wagging when you two share small interactions, even though most of them consist of him trying lame pick up lines which results in him almost getting knocked behind the head.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you convince yourself of that you dislike, despite all the times you spend together. either during classes, lunch, hangouts with shoko and suguru or missions you’re both assigned to. he’s like a solar pannel that has been installed, slowly but rapidly sucking the remaining energy out of you as if you’re the sun.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂���� 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who likes to make snarky remarks and tease you, not knowing he’s slightly being ignorant towards you as a person and your feelings. so you try to create the most distance possible, leaving him in desperation for your presence.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who embarrassingly begs shoko and suguru to talk to you. he suggests nothing but all ridiculous plans to have you finally come talk to him— and surprisingly it worked. having them to panically call you over and your worried expression quickly turned into one of disappointment. seeing satoru laying on the floor with a hand placed above his heart, whining how bad you’ve hurt him. you can’t deny that you found his dramatics amusing.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who you tell about the way you’ve been feeling regards of the way he acted towards you. his eyebrows raise in realization and he stumbles on his endless words of apologies. if you hadn’t stopped him, he basically would’ve bowed down at your feet for mercy.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who loves being able to touch you; either a lanky arm thrown around you, knees touching when he insisted on taking the seat next to you on the train or his favorite, hugging you. even though it’s only when you seek comfort, he can’t help but be selfish and enjoy these acts of services once in a while.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is so obvious with his feelings towards you, that it makes you notice the subtle ticklish feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach whenever you hear a simple thing such as the mention of his name. you’ve tried multiple times to push those feelings down, but they seem to rise higher and higher as time goes by.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who has been quiet for a while now, leaving you wondering in concern. you tried to figure it out, but it wasn’t possible when he was avoiding you in all the ways possible. he hasn’t even gossiped with you about the latest celebrity drama, something that formed like a habit between the both of you.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who runs up to you— panting and out of breath while he has his hands placed on his knees. between rushed breaths and a few coughs, he manages to tell you why he has been avoiding you and you laugh at the reason. for someone with a big ego, he sure is a coward when it comes to confessing.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who fails to hide the excitement in his teary blue eyes when you reciprocate your feelings and deciding to give him a chance. but you soon feel a pinch of regret when he ends up telling his friends and even yaga that the two of you are dating. he hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet. but that’s something for you to worry about later when he returns.
☆— 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 who is now the man you’re married to and who hasn’t fully grown out of his idiotic characteristics. but you have come to terms with that fact the moment you decided to give him your all in 2006. trusting his promise back then and till now, when he said that he’d take care of the most precious thing in the world. your heart.
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tags ! :: @white-poppie
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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bokutosbiceps · 7 months
Text
so much fun
gear five!monkey d luffy x afab!reader | smut | ~1k words
warnings: smut. it’s smut. also mild cursing LOL
a/n: okay, i wrote this impromptu smut as soon as i saw the gif @ the end of this post from one of @meeplaws posts. it was just so gorgeous i had to write something about it. wrote half of this on the toilet.
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luffy had you backed into the corner of your shared quarters, pink irises trained on your heaving chest. his hair was glowing white and whipping wildly around his face, while yours lay still against the nape of your neck. there was no wind.
he’s grinning and giggling at you, and you’re unable to tear your attention away from the way his pink tongue hangs out of his mouth. or the way his adam’s apple is bobbing up and down, strained against the skin of his throat. you gulp.
“where do ya think you're goin’, sugar?” he bounced closer to you and took you by your waist, pressing your abdomen against his and leaning forward to effectively fold you backwards. “don’t’cha wanna have some fun with your captain?”
“l-luffy, you're…”
“so what?” luffy knew you were going to mention how he was currently using gear 5. how he was currently sending things around him flying and billowing without a second thought. how dangerous and completely inviting the glint in his eye was. “s’gonna make it so much more fun, right?”
in an instant you were laying on your back with luffy’s hand still wrapped around your waist, his hips digging into yours while he sat so radiantly in between your thighs.
“hey, y/n…” he giggled, seeing the mixture of apprehension and desire etched into your features. “you love me, don’t’cha?”
you could only nod, feeling the delicious pressure of something pressing against your clothed cunt. you'll indulge your lover, you decided. even in this state. it was just that he was normally rough and unbound, never hurting you, but always leaving you breathless.
you wondered what would happen if gear 5 was added to the mix.
and you kinda wanted to find out.
“then play with me, sugar!” he giggled again, taking this opportunity to rut his hips down against yours. you moan, earning a satisfied whine from him.
“okay, lu, what do you wanna—oh, shit…” all luffy needed to hear from you was your “okay” and he let himself loose. his palms, warm and sweaty immediately pressed against the curve of your ass, gripping and pulling your shorts down in one fell swoop, giggling wildly while he did this. he pushed your shirt up to your chin, irises turning into little pink hearts at the sight of your pillowy tits, wanting nothing more than to bury his face in between them.
the warmth radiating from in between your thighs called to him, though, and he looked down at your cunt, licking his lips and smiling.
“ahh, you were just playin’ with me earlier, huh?” luffy took two fingers and swiped up from your vagina to your clit, gathering the slick that had been leaking out in a steady stream since he first approached you. “you’re wantin’ me real bad right now, ain’t’cha?”
“y-yeah…” you managed to huff out, arching your back as he continued to toy with your cunt. he was fascinated with how your slick stretched and hung in a silvery line between his two fingers. he caught the string of your arousal with his tongue, staring at you with wild eyes as he sucked his fingers clean. once he’d finished, he closed his eyes and grinned, as if he'd just ascended into bliss.
“you always taste so good, sugar. my favorite treat.” his eyes snap open and in one swift movement, he hikes your thighs over his shoulders and presses his face to your pussy. his nose prodded at your clit while he stretched his tongue inside you, as far as your anatomy would allow, and then some. his tongue lapped at your soaking wet walls, toying with the gummy spots, the ridged spots, and the spots that made you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.
after you had cum on his tongue nearly three times, luffy abruptly left your pussy aching and cold, clenching around nothing. you chanced a glance at him between your thighs. he was leaning back on his heels with his shorts unbuttoned and unzipped, stroking his cock and staring at you. he was shuddering and shimmering at his own touch, though his eyes were focused on you and you can tell he's thinking.
“m’ gonna fuck you now, ‘kay?” he breathed, shimmying out of his shorts and leaning over you, pressing you into the bed with his weight. you swore you had seen stars in his eyes before he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
he panted heavily as he teethed at your neck, scraping your skin and then soothing it with a quick swipe of tongue. you could feel the remnants of your slick still on his cheeks, rubbing onto yours. you're covered in his drool and your cum, but you're happy. blissful. it feels like the sun’s rays are reaching out to you, warming you, soaking through you. 
finally, he bit down on your shoulder and let out a loud, strained whine as he reached down to grip his cock and try to shove it inside of you. he missed, feeling his cock stretch and bend to the side against your cunt. he laughed out loud, trying over and over again to just get it in and babbling about he’s just so excited to get inside of you. the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against your clit over and over drove you into a spluttering stupor, ripping another orgasm from you. 
“okay, okay, here we go, sugar, here we go…” he calms down long enough to completely focus on burying himself within you. he lets out a mixture between a growl and a cackle as he finally plunges his cock into you and almost immediately bottoms out.
“oh, sugar, this is gonna be so so so fun. we're gonna have so much fun.” he digs his fingers into the plush of your hips as he fully hilts his cock deep within you, eliciting another delicious mewl to fall from your lips. he arches his back and pushes his chest to the sky as you clench around him, letting out a full belly laugh as he snaps his hips forward, indulging in the way you squeeze him. 
once he had gotten his fill of laughter, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. “soooo much fun.” he grinned.
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a/n: i need this man in my life. and i want him to call me sugar.
taglist: @kingofthe-egirls
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venusacrossthestars · 1 month
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I <3 Australians
pairing- Oscar Piastri x fem!reader
summary: You had an obsession with Australians, your boyfriend and love for the Australian band 5 Seconds of Summer proved as much. So what better way to show your girlfriend you love her than take her to see her other fave Australians?
wc- 2.4k
a/n- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML OSCAR PIASTRI this is the self-indulgent fic I have been talking about. I am a 5SOS stan and idc if this flops or not because I truly only wrote this for me. also this isn't edited bc I could not be bothered to do so
f1 masterlist
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You had a thing for Australians, your boyfriend was proof of that. But even before you met Oscar, you had been a fan of the Australian band- 5 Seconds of Summer. While other girls were in their One Direction phase, you were busy fawning over the 4 Australians. You were one of lucky few that were able to see both when 5SOS opened for One Direction. You were a stan, all of your family and friends knew it. But most importantly Oscar knew it as well. 
He was familiar with the band, they were after all from the same country. He became even more familiar with them after the two of you got to together. Anytime he picked you up and graced you with the aux cord, chances were that 5 Seconds of Summer was blasting through the speakers. Oscar didn’t mind, the music was half bad either, not that he would ever say anything negative about it to you. 
So when he saw that tickets were on sale for there newest tour and that one of the UK dates just happened to line up with a non-race weekend, he was quick to purchase tickets. The hardest part of this whole ordeal was keeping it quiet from you. Which is exactly why Oscar only lasted 24 hours before spilling the beans. 
Today was Oscar and yours designated ‘lazy day’, no responsibilities, no worries, a day filled with absolutely nothing. Oscar had gone into your shared office about 20 minutes ago, what he was doing, you had no clue and frankly you were too busy watching Bones to really care. 
You watch as Oscar appears from his office, hands behind his back hiding something from your view, “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.” 
You quirk an eyebrow at Oscar’s sudden exclamation. “Should I be scared?” You ask, as you sit up on the couch.
“No. Just close your eyes.” 
You do as he ask, trusting him fully. You feel him place something in your lap, however, it was too light to for you to fully make out what it was. 
“Ok, you can open them.” 
As you open your eyes you look down at your lap. You weren’t sure what to expect but it surely wasn’t a folded piece of paper. “A piece of paper?” 
Oscar rolls his eyes at your comment, “Look what’s written on it.” 
You unfold the paper and it takes a few seconds for to comprehend what is on it. You look at Oscar then back down at the paper, back to Oscar, back to the piece of paper and finally back to Oscar. “You didn’t,” is all you can say. 
“I did.” 
“Oscar this isn’t funny. I swear to God if you are joking  you are sleeping on this couch.” On that little folded piece of paper is written confirmation for 2 VIP pit tickets for the 5 Seconds of Summer Show. 
“Surprise!” Oscar shouts, face scrunched up from smiling so hard. 
You launch yourself from the couch and into his awaiting arms. You pepper his face with kisses. “Thank you- Thank you-Thank you. You are literally the best boyfriend ever.” 
“You don’t need to thank me baby. I know how much you love them.” 
Your smile widens into a grin. You reach up to pinch his cheeks, “Don’t worry you’ll always be my favorite Australian.” 
“I better be.” 
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The weeks leading up to the concert were difficult for you. You were torn in between wanting to know the setlist and not. You had done your best to stay in the dark with majority of the songs you did however know one thing they were going to be doing. 
“Osc, they throw a giant inflatable dice into the crowd and whatever song it lands on when it’s back up on stage is the surprise song they play!” 
Oscar shoots you a confused look. The two of you were on your way to the venue and you couldn’t stop talking off Oscar’s poor ear about the concert. You tired to reel in your excitement and everytime you apologized for being so excited, Oscar, like the good boyfriend he is, would tell you not to worry and that he loved seeing you so excited. 
“And,” you begin again, “one of my favorite songs is on the dice!” 
“Which one?” 
“English Love Affair!” 
Oscar nods, “Isn’t that the one about Harry Styles’ sister?” 
“Yes! I can’t believe you remembered.” 
“See I know a thing or two.” 
“So proud of you baby,” you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. 
You managed to convince Oscar to dress the part of 2014 grunge 5SOS, not that it was a challenge considering majority of pants this man owned were skinny jeans. You had your own get-up, black skinny jeans (that you had to dig out for your side of the closet), black converse, a white baby tee with a graphic that read ‘I <3 Australians’ and a red flannel tied around your waist. Adorning your wrist were the multiple friendship bracelets you had made. 
You could only be described as Wattpad Y/N. When Oscar had seen your shirt he had raised a questioning brow and had asked “I hope that shirt only means me.” 
After going through security you and Oscar were officially in the venue. Oscar was in search of something to eat and you were on the hunt for the merch stand. 
“What do you want to eat?” Oscar asks you as you stand in concession line. 
“Hmmm,” you take a peek at the menu, “I’ll have a pretzel.” 
Oscar, ever the gentleman, pay for both of your snacks and drinks. You barely have your food in hand before you are dragging Oscar to the merch stand. 
The line was long enough that the two of you could eat and silently debate with yourself what you wanted to get. 
Oscar leans his head on your shoulder, “You have to get the papaya hoodie.” 
You roll your eyes, “You’re so pretentious, it’s literally orange.” 
“Still you look good in orange.” 
“I better considering I wear it nearly every weekend.” 
While in line you chat with a few other fans, exchanging bracelets, predictions and hopes of what the dice song will be. You are interrupted by the feeling of eyes on you and Oscar, you glance over your shoulder to see a group of girls huddled in a circle. One of them is pointing to Oscar and yourself. 
You eventually get your merch, Oscar insisting on getting the ‘papaya’ hoodie for you. As the two of you were walking to the wristband station, you one of the girls from the group from earlier approaching. 
“Excuse me,” one of them asks timidly, “you’re Oscar Piastri, right?” 
Oscar nods his head, “That’s me.” 
“Okay, that’s what my friend thought,” she points over to where her other friends are standing, all now much more interested in their shoes, “I’m really sorry to interrupt your date but I wanted to ask if it’s okay if we could take a picture with you.” 
Oscar looks at you and you nod your head. He knows he doesn’t need permission, but today was supposed to be a day for the two you. “Sure, we can take some pictures.” 
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After your run in with Oscar’s fans the rest of night moves in a blur and before you know it the lights dim and the crowd starts to grow crazier, yourself included. 
You grab Oscars arm, “It’s starting oh my god, oh my god.” 
Oscar rubs your hair, “Are you excited?” 
“Is the sky blue?” 
The overtune starts and you can see Ashton, Micheal, Luke, and Calum take their places on stage. The familiar instrumental beginning of ‘Bad Omens’ fills your ears and you can hardly contain your scream. 
Oscar watches in adoration as you sing along, knowing every word. He can’t help but join in. You might’ve not known the setlist, but Oscar did. He added it to his Spotify the night he bough tickets and listened to it when he could. He wanted to make sure that he could sing along with you. 
The first 3 songs pass in a blur- Bad Omens, 2011, Caramel- and not knowing the setlist proved to be the right choice on your part because when Blender starts you nearly make Oscar deaf with your scream. 
“I’d die for you, I’d die for you, I’d die for you,” you sing looking Oscar directly in the eye. He only shakes his head at you antics. You bop and dance around to the chorus, grabbing Oscar to join in on your chaos and by the second verse he is fully dancing along with you. 
Everyone is bumping into each other having a blast, personal space be damned. You were to high on life to care about the repercussion that you would be facing tomorrow-bruised feet and a sore throat. 
More songs play and the boys interact with fans, your screaming and hollering along with them. Oscar’s face lights up at the beginning of ‘She’s Kinda Hot’ and he turns to you with a grin on his face, “I know this one!” 
“My girlfriends bitchin’ cause I always sleep in. She’s always screaming when she’s callin’ her friend. She’s kinda hot though!” Oscar sings along, wiggling his eyebrows at you when he sings the last line. 
Rolling your eyes you give him a light shove away from you. You take a moment to admire Oscar, thankfully that you have a loving boyfriend that would take you to see your other favorite Australians. 
The mood takes a 180 when the chords of ‘Amnesia’ fill the venue. You can’t help the tears that line your eyes and the shakiness of your voice when you sing along. Oscar looks at you, concern etched on his face, you wave him off. It was just a sad song, that’s all. 
The lights dim and on the big screen you see Ashton, Luke, Micheal and Calum in there suit get up. You know what time it was- Dice time. They explain the rules, if the dice isn’t back on stage within a minute then they’ll be picking the song instead. 
Luke hurls the dice into the crowd and the timer begins. Hands are flying up as the dice moves across the pit, you and Oscar watch and before you know it the dice is coming towards the two of you. You stand on your tippy toes to help Oscar, and the other around you, push it back towards the stage. 
“That was strangely horrifying,” Oscar tells you. 
“Not something I would want to see coming towards me again.” 
The dice lands on stage and you have both your fingers crossed, praying that it’s English Love Affair. You look at the screen to see the graphic stop on English Love Affair, and the noise that escapes you is hardly human. All Oscar can do it laugh at your reaction. 
Just like with the rest of the songs, you sing along, there is however a little more passion when you sing along to this one. “The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain. No, I can't forget my English love affair.” 
Oscar wraps his arms around your middle and rest his head on your shoulder, he still couldn’t believe that this song was about Harry Styles’ sister. Oscar may not admit it but every time you told him about any celebrity tea, he always listened. And granted this was old news, but it was new to him the first time he heard this song. 
You were panting at the end of the song. “Having fun babe?” You ask Oscar, hoping that your little performance didn’t scare him off. 
“I am. I thought you had some performances in the car, but those are nothing compared to what I just watched.” 
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Before you know it, ‘She Looks So Perfect’ is playing, signaling that the end of the concert is near. You know that the post concert depression would be hitting extra hard the next morning. As the final chord plays and the boys bow off stage you turn to Oscar, asking him if he is ready to go. 
“There are two more songs left, for the encore.” He tells you, still planted in his spot. 
You shoot him a look, “How do you know that?” 
You watch as Oscar’s cheeks grow red, “I might’ve learned the setlist so I could sing along with you. And trust me, you don’t want to miss these ones.” 
You knew that they would probably come back out to play ‘Youngblood’ it was their most popular song, however you weren’t sure why Oscar was so insistent that you wanted to hear the other one. 
So when they came back on stage and the familiar ‘Oh-whoa’s’ graced your ears you nearly burst into tear. You weren’t expecting to hear ‘Outer Space’ live, ever. You had made peace with this fact so you really couldn’t help it when tears started streaming down your face. 
Oscar knew of your history with the Sounds Good Feels Good album, that was an album that you related to so closely, he also knew how much Outer Space/Carry on meant to you. 
Oscars hand, now wrapped around your shoulders, brought you closer into his chest as you sang along, softer than you had been singing the entire night, “ I will wait for you, to love me again… I guess I was running, from something. I was running back to you.” 
Oscar leans his head in closer and presses a soft kiss into your cheek. Oscar reaches into his back pocket and hands you his phone, flashlight already on, so you could join in with everyone else. 
“The darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side,” Oscar sings along. And while you couldn’t see him, you knew that he was looking at you with nothing but love his eyes. 
The two of you sway in each others embrace, singing along to the ending- 
Nothing like the rain, nothing like the rain
When you're in outer space, when you're in outer space
Nothing like the rain,  nothing like the rain 
When you're in outer space , when you're in outer space 
Love me like you did, love me like you did
I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything 
Love me like you did, love me like you did
I'll give you anything, I'll give you anything
You turn in Oscars arms, you bring your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss. It wasn’t the most romantic kiss the two of you have shares, you were both sweaty, tired, you definitely had tears running down your face, and there was probably some snot in the mix. It might’ve not been the most romantic, but it was something so personal and that’s all that you needed.
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a/n: also as I said this was extremely self-indulgent and ik you can def tell. but in all seriousness 5SOS is my favorite band and their album- Sounds Good Feels Good is the album to listen to if you need to get some feels out. I cry every time I listen to Outer Space/Carry on.
I was lucky enough to see them last year at the '5 Seconds of Summer Show' and hearing Outer Space live was an out of body experience. If you ever need some song recommendations for a certain mood, they have a song for nearly everything.
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