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#like it's either on one side or the other
semiis · 2 days
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their cuddle positions w/haikyuu
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pairing: various x reader
genre: headcanons ; fluff
warning(s): none
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a/n: this is an old post i uploaded on my hq blog from 2020. this was one of my favorites so I thought it was be nice to post it again. back then, i went with the ones i wrote for so i'm keeping it just the way it is. i’m really sorry if your favorite isn’t there. i hope you guys like them !!
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
atsumu, ushijima, daichi ⥼ the sweetheart cradle. i personally think this would be his go to cuddling position. his arm wrapped around you, holding you close while he lays on his back, your head buried deep into his chest while you inhale the scent of his cologne. most definitely pats or strokes your head as a sign of comfort or whispers nothing but comforting words to you. 
suna, kageyama, tsukishima ⥼ the leg hug. i don’t know why, but this is definitely you guy’s go to. the two of you would be chilling on either one’s bed, sleeping, on the phone, playing games etc. while one of your legs are entangled together. it’s much more relaxing to him and you both get the physical contact you were craving from each other. 
oikawa, sugawara, kita, asahi ⥼ the honeymoon hug. oikawa loves the physical affection between you two and whenever he’s feeling touch starved this is his go to. the both of you are entwined together, holding the other tight, arms wrapped around each other - almost as if refusing to let go. his chin (or yours) is delicately propped up on top of yours. he can feel your breath against the crook of his neck and he adores it. sometimes find him or yourself peppering soft kisses on the other. 
bokuto, lev, yamaguchi ⥼ the spoon. he loves cuddling, especially when it’s with you. he mostly loves cuddling after a long day a practice when he’s beat and worn out.  he lives for having his arms securely around your torso while your back is pressed up against his chest. you would sometimes find his hands caressing your sides or arms and he’d be eager to leave the most tender kisses against the back of your neck. 
hinata, osamu, noya, tanaka ⥼ the butt pillow. you or him laying on your stomach while the other has their head propped up on your butt. also an easy way to tease his s/o. he loves it. the “best pillow in the room” and the only one you guys want to lay your head against. it’s common if he strokes/caresses your leg, might even draw an invisible heart on it. 
tendou, kuroo, iwaizumi, semi ⥼ the cradle. he enjoys when you're laying on top of him, legs on either side of his body, cradling him while his arms hold you firm against his chest. you listen to the sound of his heartbeat and almost find yourself falling asleep to the soothing, rhythmic sound. 
kenma, sakusa, akaashi ⥼ the lap pillow. he’s fond of laying his head in your lap and often finds himself doing it every time he comes over to your place and vice versa. play with his hair, stroke his cheek with your finger, boop his nose, bend over to place kisses on his face - all of them would make him melt. loves peering up at your face from that angle and admires just how attractive you are. 
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© semiis 2024 ; do not translate, repost, modify, or copy my work.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Play, Sleep, Repeat
Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader
Summary: You're Katie's cousin
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Katie has never quite understood you.
You'd always been on the fringes of her awareness.
She has all her siblings. Her close family is big. Her extended family is even bigger.
You're her cousin, on her mother's side.
She'd never really kept up with your life. She'd see you at family reunions maybe once, twice a year and it would all be a quick conversation before she moved on.
She'd never been close enough to her uncle, your dad, to really know what was going on the two of your lives. All she really remembers was that his wife (your mother) had left him and he was a single dad.
It was surprising to see the Arsenal announcement photo with you smiling at the camera, a big Ireland flag draped over your shoulders.
It should have made her feel bad that you didn't drop a text to say you were signing but Katie didn't even know you played football until the announcement so she decided that she didn't really have room to have her feelings hurt over it.
She had hoped this would be the opportunity for you both to grow closer but, as she looks at you now, horsing down your lunch, she kind of thought that was a pipe dream.
You get up immediately after finishing, avoiding the table with the other younger players and heading back out onto the pitch.
It was like clockwork with you. You were either crashed out asleep in the break room, eating like you'd been starved or practicing for hours before or after training.
"What's up with your cousin, McCabe?" Leah asks, watching you leave as well," She never hangs around."
Katie shrugs. "I dunno. She's always been like that, I think."
"You think?"
"She's being raised by her Da. I guess she's never been around this many girls in her life."
"Surely she played on a girl's team before coming here."
Katie shrugs again.
"You don't know?"
"I've got a big family, Williamson. I hardly see her back home. Sue me for not stalking her every move."
Kim slides into the seat next to her. "I'm worried about her," She says," She's always here early and she stays late too. I've never seen her Dad pick her up."
"So what? She's a big girl."
Kim raises a brow. "I wasn't worried because she promised me that you've been dropping her off."
"What? She told me Kyra was doing that."
Kim sighs. "I got her address off Jonas. Do you and Caitlin mind popping by tonight? I'd do it myself but she might respond better to you."
Katie stands at your door a few hours after training has finished. She'd been waiting in her car for a while now, unable to believe her eyes when you'd stepped off the bus barely ten minutes ago still in your training kit.
Her hand hovers over the door, unmoving.
Caitlin nudges her to the side, pressing the doorbell.
"Hey," She says when you open it," Can we come in?"
Your eyes dart to the side. "Er..."
"Is your Da in? I need to talk to him."
"Da's busy," You say.
"That's okay. We can wait." Katie barges in and Caitlin follows her before you can stop them.
"How long will he be?" Caitlin asks and your eyes dart to the door.
"Well..."
"Have you had dinner yet?" Katie asks," 'Cause your fridge is bare."
"Stop it!" You say, pushing her out of your kitchen," Stop snooping!"
"Are these takeout boxes?"
"Katie, I mean it! Out!"
"Nah, where's your Da? Surely, he can't be letting you eat all this crap."
You mumble a response that Katie forces you to repeat. A response that gets regurgitated to every responsible adult on the team.
Your Da didn't come with you to England. In fact, your Da hadn't even be to one of your Arsenal matches.
"He'll come when I make it into the Ireland squad," You'd told Katie and Caitlin," He promised."
The team keeps a close eye on you. Your back prickles with awareness and every time you look behind you, someone is watching.
Things change as well, slowly but surely. It's enough to put you on edge.
It starts with Caitlin and Katie driving you to practice. You usually leave hours ahead of when training starts so you can get the bus and still have time to practice before it begins.
(Maybe if you have a bit extra training then Gleeson will have no choice but to call you up for the next international break).
You have no idea how long they've been camping in their car because you get up stupidly early.
They bundle you in with them. They grab breakfast at a quaint place in town before getting you to training on time.
Next comes Kim. She sits with you at lunch and talks to you enough that you finish the same time as everyone else.
Leah helps you with your kit.
Lia sits with you on the bus.
Lessi, Vic and Kyra splash you with water during the changeover at training.
Beth lets you nap against her and Viv makes sure you have a protein shake ready for you when you wake up.
Slowly but surely, you're folded into the team that is Arsenal. You existed on the fringes of life in London, focused on nothing but finally having your father support you in football.
Now though, you have the team to celebrate your goals with. You have Katie shaking you with joy when you score the last minute winner against Everton.
You also have the text from your Da nitpicking your every move in the match.
You feel lucky that he even kept the match on with how shit you were apparently making. A few months ago, you would have gone back to your own habits. A few months ago, you would have ran until your legs gave out.
But it's no longer a few months ago.
So, you just put your phone away and let Steph ruffle your hair on the way back to her seat.
You're actually part of the team now. A key part of the team if you go off how many times you've started a match.
A key part of the time if you go by how you seamlessly tackle Cuthbert and send the ball rolling straight to Caitlin to collect. You're about to stand up but Cuthbert can't stay on her feet and she stumbles, falling with a sickening crunch onto your ankle.
The scream you let out is guttural and you push her off you to grab at your ankle, as if touching it would suddenly make it feel better.
You slap the ground with your fist and scream again. Leah comes sliding in next to you, pinning your ankle to the ground with a firm hand.
"I know," She says," I know but we need to keep it still. Just stay still."
"Leah," You sob," It hurts!"
"I know," She repeats," The physios are coming straight on. Just keep it still."
Katie comes running to you next, tucking your face into her chest as you sob, shielding you from the fans.
Caitlin has taken her job at yelling at the ref, desperate to get some kind of compensation even if it was all a complete reaction.
"I...I..." You manage to get out through your tears," I don't think Gleeson's going to call me up for the break."
Lia, who had gently removed your cleat, laughs. "You don't need to focus on that right now." She peals your sock down. "But it's nice that you've still got your sense of humour."
You hiss as someone else touches your ankle.
"Hey!" Katie snaps," Careful with her!" She turns back to you. "Can you walk?"
"I don't even think I can stand up."
"You're going to be okay," She says as the stretcher is brought on," They'll fit you with a boot and you'll come back to mine."
You groan. "God, not your place."
"What's wrong with my mine?!"
"You can't cook! Can I go to Kim's instead?"
"I think I preferred it when we didn't talk."
You grin. "Didn't your Ma ever tell you lying's bad?"
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me-writes-prompts · 2 days
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:-"Soft things people in love do that makes me want to fall in love" prompts-:
(Tag me if you guys write these!!!! yeeeeee)
By @me-writes-prompts
Letting them sit in their seat during a train/bus transaction
Making food for each other as surprise
Picnic dates^^
"We could just stay like this, cuddling all day, if you want."
Random kisses on lips/hands/neck >\\\<
Giving them a head massage while they listen to the other one talk about their day
Late-night star gazing when they can't sleep
^^ "The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?" "Not as bright as you, love." and they pull them into a kiss because they start to laugh at the cheesiness.
Leaning their heads on each other's
"I know you're struggling right now, and it's okay, okay? We'll get through this."
"I left you a note, did you read it?" "Yeah, I left one you one back to tell you I read it!" <3333
"I can't believe you remember the day we first had our kiss!" "It's an important day that needs to be remembered forever :)"
"Is it too early to say I love you? Because I do. I love you so much." "Aww, I love you too. So much."
Making the other one diy bracelets/rings/etc with their names.
^^"This is lovely! But you spelled your name wrong, darling." "Oh...heh, guess I got carried away huh?"
Board game nights where their competitive sides come out
"I hope you know that I'll never leave your side, even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier." "Hmm, I won't either, even though you take my clothes and never return them."
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mayumiiyuu · 2 days
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i like.. need munch jason so badly.. like!! need him to be all up in it!
him just gripping ur thighs so u cant escape his lips while he eats from the back like a starving man!! please, i beg of u.. orz
munchies !
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Minors DNI
warnings: afab!reader, lots and lots of pussy eating, overstimulation if u squint, jason todd loves ur puss.
⋆。°✩jason todd is a certified munch. he often mocks you for how greedy you are for his cock—only for him to be even greedier for your slick cunt, lapping up the sweet nectar that spilled from you like a man starved. could you really blame him though when you looked so pretty, tasted so good, like ambrosia from the very gods? he needed to worship you as such, in any and every position, your knees placed upon the mattress on either side of his head as you rode his tongue, or on your back with your knees pressed to your chest, or even your back arched as he ate you out with your ass in his face. it didn’t matter to him, so long as he could have his tongue swipe against your slit and suck your clit, he’d be happy.
“‘S too much, Jay…” you pout, looking back at him with wide, pleading eyes, brows knitted as you felt his tongue swipe up and down your sopping cunt.
he doesn’t even pull away from you to answer, his lips still latched around your puffy clit as he sucked it into his mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing at the sensitive bud, eliciting a loud moan from you as you involuntarily wiggle your hips—though any attempt to get away from his hungry mouth is completely void as his arms were wrapped around your thighs, keeping them securely in place.
“You can take it,” Jason murmurs, his voice gravelly, and as you look down at him, you feel your cunt clench around nothing as his lips and chin are shiny with your juices, having just released for him a little earlier. he dives back into your drenched folds, laying his tongue flat against your sex as he bobbed his head up and down, lapping at your essence with wolfish glee.
“Jus’ one more—you can give me one more, yeah, princess?” his eyes dart up towards your own, his pupils completely blown out with desire, eyes darkened with lust as he continues to suck your overly sensitive clit.
he said that same thing hours ago, when he first made you cum all over his mouth, back when he had you atop his face, grinding your slick pussy against his tongue, only to completely drench his lips as you gushed from his tongue fucking into your cunt, thumb pressed firmly against your clit as he rubbed circles into it. the logical part of you knew that if you came another time, you’d reach your limit and end up squirting all over his tongue and drenching his shirt—but the other more primal part of you couldn’t help but nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as your breath leaves your lips in puffs, chest rising shallowly as you feel yourself pulled closer to the edge by Jason’s mouth on your cunt.
you were never going to get out from his grip at this point.
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xrux · 3 days
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ⋮ 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮
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↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist
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In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which you get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you
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pairing. miya atsumu x reader
warnings. no reader pronouns, f anatomy! reader, hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, pet names (darling, sweets, he also keeps calling you cute & pretty), wedgie, masturbation, cockwarming, overstimulation, creampie, pillow talk, pregnancy joke, breast/nipple play
word count. 3.5k
an. this was the first smut I ever wrote (like 4 years back). this is also rewritten & reposted <3
꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱
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Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone, swept along the late afternoon tide. The midnight blue scarf wrapped loosely around your neck is about the only thing keeping you warm and. Your borderline-sheer bridesmaid dress would’ve definitely suited the beachy occasion if it weren’t for the fact that temperatures this time of the year are starting to drop.
Still, you pay no mind to the cold when the salty breeze beckons you to dip your toes in the sea, leaving your woes behind in a quick attempt to remove yourself from the reception. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And to think you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t come with a +1. No wonder you came to the sea for some company when everyone else has just about taken the dancefloor, dancing not alone to some mood music.
You run your fingers through your hair, pulling it back in a lazy attempt at keeping it in place while you indulge in the ocean breeze. The cold wind kisses your now exposed back, hairs on your nape prickling as you close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to the chilly sensation on your skin.
Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging the scarf off your neck — the garment didn’t go far but tides have started to be unforgiving at this hour.
It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet, let alone accidentally drowning with no one aware of your whereabouts. Only, anyone who could save you is either drunk or lovesick.
Screw it. You reach for the hems of your dress, holding them up to your knees, about ready to brave the 2-feet-high seawater.
And as if the sea gods had just answered your plea, you freeze in place when you hear a snicker coming from behind you, the apparent source of it walking past you, beating you to your scarf.
It’s one of the groomsmen from your now friend-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four, five buttons undone, exposing his toned chest.
You wonder how long he was able to make a spectacle of you before rushing to your aid when you realize he’s already barefoot and had more than enough time to take off his shoes and socks. Funny, he didn’t even bother to fold his beige pants before charging on. He shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf, gently wringing the saltwater out. His shins splash against the tides as he makes his way over to you, looking far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.
“You didn’t have to, but thank you, uhm—”
“Atsumu?” He says it like it’s a sarcastic reminder, as if his name is something you’re already supposed to know. “Seemed like an important scarf, and uh — you can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”
You thank the sea gods for answering your prayers even though it almost took a human sacrifice (you) in order for them to grant you company — and someone so easy on the eyes too.
“I feel like I’ve seen this already,” half-impressed, half-suspicious, you say as you take your scarf back.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in clichés. You know… the whole damsel in distress trope? Then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”
“Darling, you barely even dipped in the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?”
Your lips purse in amusement, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you chuckle. “Just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to commit.”
“But what if I want to?”
“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow. I’m ___. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”
“Scarf and a date. Must be your lucky day. Pick you up at 8?”
“Sure, but promise me you’ll change into something dry.”
That earns you yet another snicker from him. “I will if you will.”
Your planning is interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out. It’s ridiculous since it’s only been barely a few hours into the afterparty.
“Whad’ya know. And it’s only 6 o’clock,” you huff out knowing you have to sit through more of these tonight, already mentally exhausted at the thought.
“To think there’s going to be 5 more hours of this or so.”
As if the gods hadn’t blessed you enough today, you find your would-be date as engrossed at the scenery as you. It turns out, he’s as impressed with you as you are with him. His face instantly switches from a scowl to an inquisitive one with a cocked brow. You swear you hear his thoughts as clear as day asking you ‘you thinking what I’m thinking?’.
In case the message didn’t come across, he holds a hand out, asking you again, “Wanna get outta here?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Like some horny teenagers who had just gotten off prom, you find yourselves hand-in-hand running through endless corridors, leaving trails of giggles and sand past concerned staff and other guests on your way to your hotel room.
You try your hardest to brush off your pseudo-savior's eagerness while still in public. But with the way he keeps kissing the back of your hand and persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder every time anything blocks your way, you can’t help the lewd sounds that escape your lips.
The knowing looks that come your way don’t help either, not when Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible as some form of pre-foreplay.
Atsumu is ruthless even as you enter the elevator that had a family and a few other guests on board. He leads you to the back in his half-hearted attempt to be discreet.
Still a couple floors away, he passes the time by snaking both hands around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. As if timed right at the ding of the elevator, you feel two fingers pinch your ass, making your breath hitch a tiny squeak, forcing you to cover your mouth, and it takes everything in you not to take him on then and there.
“Atsumu, stop,” quietly, you plead, chuckling between syllables.
Ding, the elevator goes again, and for revenge, you grind your ass against his crotch.
“Mm,” he hums, chuckling low and breathy at the sudden wave of pleasure forcing him to dig his fingers into your waist.
“There are children in here,” one snarky lady comments as she tries to cover her children’s ears.
“Don’t worry. When they grow up, they’ll understand—”
“Atsumu!” You cover your mouth instantly in a futile attempt to stifle your laughter, earning daggers of stares from everyone else on the elevator.
The elevator dings one more time as the screen flashes your floor number, signalling your stop.
“Sorry!” You yell out when the doors are about to close with Atsumu dragging you to your feet, looking back to the unforgiving looks from the people left at the elevator.
“What’s taking so long, ___?” Atsumu whines.
“Shut up, I’m looking okay?”
You scramble through your tiny purse, cursing and wondering why your keys are never where you need them to be.
“Take any longer and I wouldn’t think twice to have you right here.”
“You’re not helping— found it!”
Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to the crook of your neck.
You suppose it’s the excitement in the air, where love and love-making are to be expected — the culprit behind why Atsumu just couldn’t wait to kiss you until you’re at least inside your room, where you’re hidden from the security cameras. It’s that or the party really must’ve sucked. In the heat of the moment, you kiss him back, hands roaming every which way, from his silky locks down to his biceps that feel so taut underneath your palms. You wonder if you’re probably putting on a good show for the people behind the cameras.
You enter your room after what felt like hours. Atsumu grabs your hand, interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. Mouths still latched onto each other’s, the need to be rid of clothes becomes urgent to say the least.
Shoes kicked off, and scarf discarded, he sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt. The second you pull out, calloused fingers snake around the back of your head, and without an ounce of care, Atsumu pulls you back in, crashing his mouth onto yours.
“Sweets, you taste like heaven,” he says, moving on to trail your neck with kisses.
He runs his hands over your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before he attempts to undress you. He attempts to tug at the zipper of your dress but it doesn’t budge.
”You’re hopeless,” you tease, playfully punching his chest. “Let me help you”
“I’d offer to rip it off but really, I just wanted to watch you strip.” He props his hands behind him, smirking as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes glistening with anticipation as he watches you get out of your dress. You take off both straps, letting your dress fall to the ground.
“Hh-ooly fuck,” he whistles, chest emptying out the chunk of breath he held back, pupils blown out as he takes the sight of your exposed top. His eyes are dead glued to your figure. With labored breaths, he slowly cups his aching bulge a few times before swiftly unbuckling his belt with one hand, head of his cock creating a dent on his boxers when he unbuttons his pants.
“My turn,” he coos, throwing his pants and shirt aside, revealing a rock hard build that could only belong to a sculpture of a Greek god. His breaths grow heavier the second he takes his cock out of his boxers, you gulp at the size of his girth alone, never mind the length you’re sure you’re not going to be able to take. His chuckles are low and carnal, ones that can’t wait to devour you.
He knows that look on your face. It’s one he’s so used to seeing upon showing his former lovers and fuck buddies his full and hard cock for the first time. The hollow of his palm gathers the slick from the tip. “Fuck, ____. The things I can’t wait to do to you.” He grunts while his fingers play with his foreskin, afterwards smearing pre-cum across his hard length.
With one hand slowly pumping his cock, he reaches for you with his free hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him, his free hand caressing your sides.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your collarbone as he plants a kiss on your breast. He moves his mouth south of your nipple, tongue flicking the bud before capturing it in his mouth. He releases with a pop, alternating between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.
”Atsumu,” you mutter his name, fingers brushing through his silky locks while he’s in your embrace, clothed cunt lightly rubbing on the tip of his cock, “please,” you murmur.
”Hm? Can’t hear you,” he hums, teeth sinking into your tit as his tongue plays with your nipple, not having had his fill with them yet. He knows full well what you need with his fingers tracing along the hems of your underwear.
“F-fuck!” you cry from the sudden burning sensation on your ass down to your cunt, holding onto him for dear life as you try to grind against the much-needed friction, and you realize he’d pulled a fistful of your underwear from behind you.
“God, you’re so pretty. Even the sounds you make are so pretty.” He tightens his grip on your panties, running his free fingers between your spilled labias.
“You weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, sweets?”
“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” He parts your underwear and runs a finger through your slippery folds. “Mmf,” you mewl when he pinches your clit, teasing your sensitive bud, your body practically melting into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders.
“I’m just stating the obvious, ___. You’re so wet, it’s so cute. So eager. So fucking ready for me.”
“You fucking idi—ahh!” Atsumu relentlessly pumps his middle and ring finger into your wet hole, his thumb drawing fast slimy circles onto your clit, making you collapse onto him as he fucks you with his fingers.
“You want my cock? Say it. Say you want my cock. Beg for it sweets. I want to hear you say it. C’mon, say it.”
“P-please… your cock… Atsummff— hha!!” You whimper, head bowed, forehead leaning on his shoulder. You’re losing rhyme and reason as you mount his hand, hips bucking onto his touch riding your first orgasm, all while Atsumu peppers your shoulder blade with kisses.
“You’re so fucking cute, wanna hear you cummin’ all night long.”
Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs now-menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits again inside you, exploring your velvet walls.
“Please, please, please, ‘Tsumu,” pressing your forehead against his, you purr, making Atsumu curl his fingers inside you.
He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who has already come undone with just his fingers.
He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you, gently laying you down on your bed.
His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear, making your breath hitch at your full exposure. His head tilts, looking at your puffy cunt with such hunger in his gaze. He lines himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock accidentally rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the way your mouth instantly formed an ‘o’.
And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.
“So fucking pretty.” He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you, not giving you time to adjust at all. Luckily, your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.
”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite onto your thumb, but that seems to do something to Atsumu, his gaze and pace both turning into something more animalistic.
”Fuck, keep doin’ that and I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.
Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, clutching onto the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you can’t help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax once more.
“So glad we left the party,” you mumble to which Atsumu laughs. “Fuck yeah.”
Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost- almost there- a-almost-“ Your eyes close shut, head craning back subconsciously as you await your orgasm.
”No, no. Fuck. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. You follow his command despite your self-consciousness over your unravelling expression, but a bolt of heat shoots down your stomach so hot, it stifles any complaint that could come from your mouth.
”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.
His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the nth time. Open mouthed and breath hitching, you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenches around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you — grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.
“Damn,” you breathe out.
Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position.
“Damn,” he says back, leaving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that makes your heart skip a beat in a different way compared to the intimate exchange you just had.
It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you, hard. He lays on his side after he exits you, and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. You jolt back when you feel him sliding his cock back in from behind you, but the stretch is one you welcome, too tired to even complain about all the cum he’s squeezing out of you.
”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he pants.
”You seriously only thought to ask that only now?”
He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”Don’t worry, we’re good.”
“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”
“You — you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease as Atsumu fiddles with your breast. Even during pillowtalk, he’s quite on brand as the tits kind of guy.
“Darling, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts, squeezing your tit.
“I just like the beach,” you say plainly, slightly taken aback by the sudden interrogation. “And how are you related to the groom?”
“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”
Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”
Your insides suddenly twitch at your discovery, making him jolt forward “Careful there!” he grunts, warning you as he wraps an arm around your waist.
“Same undercut, dark hair. That’s right, I saw him too. How did I not see you were twins?!”
You feel the grumble of his chest while he chuckles, feeling hints of exhaustion in his laughter while he’s pressed up against your back. He kisses your shoulder, feeling his weight on you as he leans into you even more. “You musta’ just been looking at the right sort,” he replies cheekily, hand latched onto your breast again.
“By ‘right’, you mean you?”
“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”
”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”
“What’s that?” He brings a hand over to your clit, viciously rubbing your sensitive bud, making your hips shake. He’s banking on your overstimulation from your multiple orgasms, obviously unwilling to let you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.
“What is it?”
“Nothingfff— I—”
“I what?”
“Feel so good, d-don’t stop—fuck!”
He lifts you by your waist so that you’re on all fours, fingers still stroking your clit. It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.
The ram of his hips against your as is a mix of sticky and slippery, sticky where his cum began to dry out seconds ago. He pounds into you harder this time, apparently unhappy with your supposed comparison.
“‘Tsumuuuu,” you purr. If a while ago you were merely oriented with the stretch of his cock, now it’s something so familiar you’re sure no other cock can quite fit like a glove compared to his. And you suddenly remember that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s already balls deep into you for the second time today.
The sound of his rock hard thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. Still slightly sticky from the cum that hasn’t fully dried out, your clit sticks onto the base of his cock before he fully exits and pounds into you again. Cunt gummy, slimy, and stuffed all at once, a bolt of heat from your stomach shoots down to your center making you scream in pleasure.
He squeezes your tit one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch your back, whimpering as you get off from your high. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high, stuffing you full of his hot and thick seed.
“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it. He plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to his sweaty, panting body.
“You are so full of it,” you sneer.
He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”
“Deal.”
354 notes · View notes
poppy-metal · 23 hours
Note
MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH
i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.
under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept
you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.
he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.
so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.
"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"
you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.
you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.
"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."
and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."
you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.
"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."
arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.
"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."
"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."
"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"
your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.
"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."
art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.
"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."
you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.
"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"
its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.
it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?
and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.
"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"
that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?
sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.
but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.
patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.
when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.
you still said yes.
"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"
you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.
"yeah, i really do."
because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.
"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"
art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.
"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."
janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.
"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"
art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.
"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."
you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?
the rain of your marriage.
the rain of you.
you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.
"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"
"i...."
you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.
a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.
at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.
you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.
"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."
your breath shudders out of you.
"you don't need me." you echo.
you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.
without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.
"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."
you nod slowly.
"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."
both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.
"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."
you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.
"okay."
"yeah?"
"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."
art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.
"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."
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Text
Celebrating All Night
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x fem reader
Genre: Dating, smut
Summary: After a big win, Paige and you have a fun night out to celebrate
Warnings: Smut with plot! Praise, degradation, strap, fingering, going down, aftercare afterwards
It was no secret that Paige loved partying...
Just not as much as she loved you.
After wins, it was a common occurrence to see her and the rest of the Uconn team celebrating at a nearby bar or club. Tonight had been a huge game, Uconn winning by a landslide, and you'd wanted nothing more than to spend an evening partying with your girlfriend.
You were sitting with the team, drinking a Shirley Temple as Paige took shots with KK and Aubrey.
You could tell Paige was getting a little tipsy, but she held her liquor well, so you let her continue on.
Ice was on live, reading out comments.
"Where's Paige? Uhhh-"
You laugh at Ice's look of surprise and then mild disgust when she twists in her chair to look for Paige and the woman herself drapes her arm around her.
"Heyyyy guys!"
Paige rizzes the camera, rubbing her hands together and biting her lip, smiling wide as the comments go wild. She then dances out of view, taking another shot.
The music of the club is loud, and they're playing all the bangers tonight. You feel like dancing, so you get up from your seat.
"Paige- you wanna dance?"
Paige looks at you, towering over you by a few inches. She's wearing a tight-fitting white crop top, abs on full display, and dark coloured cargo pants tonight, with the band of her boxers peeking out. Her cheeks are flushed, from the alcohol, you, or both.
You fumble for her belt loops in order to get her to move, and you laugh when she raises her hands and goes,
"Woahhh Ma, not in public-"
You blush, and she smirks at you.
Paige grabs the belt loops of your jeans, snapping you flush against her hips.
"Come on y/n, lets dance" She whispers into your ear, grabbing your hand, leading you into the crowd.
The lights are going crazy, the bass even louder here. Everyone's dancing, bodies and exposed skin brushing each other.
You laugh as she tries to tell you a stupid joke over the music cause you can't hear a damn thing, but she looks so cute.
Another song comes on, and Paige pulls you against her. Her hands roam over your sides and linger on your ass, squeezing lightly.
You want to kiss her so badly, eyes roving over the plushness of her bottom lip. Her eyes are a vivid blue, even in the flashing lights of the club, dark with desire. Her gaze focuses on your lips as well but she knows she can't kiss you either- not here.
You tease her, getting close to conceal the fact your fingers are dipping into the waistband of her cargo pants. She grabs your hands.
"You wanna go?" She says, already sending a text to KK to let her know.
"Yes.." You say, and with that, she's grabbing your hand again, half dragging you out of the club.
A few minutes later, you're back at her dorm, and once you're inside, with the door shut, Paige doesn't waste a second.
You moan into her mouth as she kisses you, pulling you into her with one hand on your jaw, the other around your waist.
She's needy, and you can feel it with the way she's kissing you so desperately.
Paige's got your dress half off, the thin straps off your shoulders, when you stop her to press her against the door.
You kiss down her neck, the smooth expanse of skin that always drives you crazy.
"Y/n, don't leave a hickey-" Paige says, but can't stiffle the whimper she makes when you bite her, your hands busy unbuttoning her cargos.
"Yeah, yeah, let me hear those pretty whimpers, Paige," You say, biting further down, leaving kisses down to her chest.
"Can I take this off?"
You gesture to her outfit, and she just looks at you with want.
"Yes, of course- can I take your dress off?"
Even though you've been dating for a few months, you both still ask.
"Yes-" The word has barely left your mouth before she's slipping it off you, the material pooling on the floor as you kick it away.
She's kissing your collarbone, leaving a trail of hickeys in her wake.
"My pretty girl" Paige's hands are wandering, pulling you into her again, squeezing your ass.
"Off," You say, pulling her pants halfway down. Paige steps out of them, and you drop to your knees.
"We haven't done it this way yet-" You smirk up at her, and she stiffles a moan at the sight of you between her legs. It never gets old.
You press a finger to her boxers - soaked- and smirk when she begs at your touch.
"Please y/n.. don't tease"
"I know, baby, you're already so wet for me... being such a good girl"
Paige moans at your words, her hips slightly raising.
You take her boxers off and slide your tongue into her folds, relishing the way her hands automatically come down to hold your head.
"Mmmm," You moan at her taste and the position she's got you in, feeling her fingers tangle in your hair, her grip firm.
You sink two fingers into her easily and Paige whimpers as you suck on her clit. Her hips buck into you, grinding down onto your tongue.
"Yes, baby, being so good for me. Fuck my face, just like that-"
You praise her, and you don't need to look up to know she's pink. Paige fucks your face, her hands guiding you as she moans.
"Fuck y/n I'm gonna come, y/n!"
Paige comes, your fingers coated with her slick. You suck them, and she eyes you, pulling you up to her.
Paige kisses you hungrily, picking you up and setting you onto the edge of the bed.
"Does my pretty girl want my strap?" She asks you, fingers on your jaw.
"Yes.. please Paige"
You plead from beneath her and she smirks at your needy tone.
A few minutes later, she's back, her purple strap ready to go.
Pulling off your panties, Paige smirks at your wetness, pushing two fingers in to test if you're ready.
"Please Paige, I need you so bad-" You're begging because it's true- but also because she loves it when you do.
"Okay, y/n.. since you want it so bad.. such a whore for me"
Paige slides the strap in, relishing the way you take her so well. You wrap your legs around her, hands tangled in her hair as she kisses you.
"Paige-" You moan out as she hits your g spot, "please Paige, right there.. don't stop-"
"Not stopping ma"
Paige says, speeding up, her thrusts faster.
She's so turned on by the sight of you being so fucked out beneath her that she almost thinks she could come again.
"Fuck Paige.. please.. please.. I, I'm gonna come"
You clutch at her, nails digging into her back as she fucks you.
"Come for me y/n"
You do just that, shaking as you come on her strap.
You kiss her cheek, recovering from your high.
"Good job baby.. you did so- ahhh-"
Your praise is cut short as she snaps her hips into you, clearly not done with you yet. She kisses you again, biting on your bottom lip.
"Paige- Paige.. I can't take it" You pull away from the kiss to moan at her so deep inside you.
"Shhh, shut up, take it baby. I know you can."
Paige keeps fucking you, and you realize why she's continuing. The strap is hitting her clit at the perfect angle, making her thrusts a little sloppier, a little more desperate.
"Oh baby, you want to come again, don't you? That's why you're fucking me so good-"
You hold her face, watching the way her eyes are glazed over with a bit of satisfaction. Paige always gets so pathetic when she wants to come.
"Yes.. you feel so good y/n" Paige whimpers, fucking you rougher as she gets near her high. You feel yourself close to coming again and even closer when she presses on your lower stomach.
"I'm gonna come Paige-"
Paige moans, the strap rocking against her.
"Come with me pretty girl"
You come together, shaking and glad, and she breathes heavily on top of you for a second before sliding out gently.
Paige cleans you off with some tissues.
"That was so good baby, you okay?"
Paige checks in on you, handing you her waterbottle. She's finding a big shirt for you to sleep in, settling on an old navy Uconn shirt.
"Yeah, I'm good, that was great, love," You say back, giggling as she puts the shirt on over you, ruffling your hair.
"Come cuddleee," Paige whines, and you grin at her.
"You're such a baby Paige"
You settle on her chest, feeling tired but happy.
"No, you're the baby! I bet you're gonna fall asleep first!"
The banter feels familiar. You smile, pressing a kiss against her collarbone.
"I love you, Paige,"
It's Paige's turn to smile, her eyes turning into little crescents as she grins.
"I love you too y/n"
---
Authors Note: Paige fic! Lowkey this was just filth but I wanted to switch it up from the usual fluff. I hope y'all enjoyed <333.
314 notes · View notes
st4rbwrry · 3 hours
Text
𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?
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✧。˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.
𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!
౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡
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you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.
this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.
as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.
“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.
maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.
“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”
the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.
“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.
whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.
“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”
flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.
toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.
a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.
fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.
thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.
“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.
without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.
toji
i’ve seen you before.
you blink, fingers typing quickly.
you
mhm, where?
he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.
toji
sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.
you
sounds about right. does that bother you?
toji
i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.
you
so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?
those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.
toji
i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.
he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.
“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.
you
i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
toji
of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.
there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.
you
you had me at italian. saturday at 2?
toji
saturday at 2. see you then, darling.
              𓇼
the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.
you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.
“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”
“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“
“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.
aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.
“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.
“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”
shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”
amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”
you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.
“guess i’ll see you.”
after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.
it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.
saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.
while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?
your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.
angelbwrry is live!
your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.
“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”
the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.
but, you had to talk about him.
“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”
the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.
“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.
toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”
“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”
“i’ll be sure to remember.”
twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.
angelbwrry is going live!
toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.
nothing wrong with just watching, right?
as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.
“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.
he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.
“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.
“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?
toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
prinxxxspeach
aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!
don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.
you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.
“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.
“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.
you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.
“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.
“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.
“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.
“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.
“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.
the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.
you were fucking ethereal.
              𓇼
of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.
you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.
“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.
he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.
“right this way.”
your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.
“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.
“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.
“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.
why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”
“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”
“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.
“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?
“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.
“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”
he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”
“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”
that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.
“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”
toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “
toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.
his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”
the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”
toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”
that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.
“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”
toji smiles, admiring you.
“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”
toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”
the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.
“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”
“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”
the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“
the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.
“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.
toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”
you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”
“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”
pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.
“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.
“you deserve it.”
“you don’t know me.”
“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.
“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”
the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.
you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.
within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.
“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.
he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.
“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”
you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.
“see you later, angel.”
finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.
𓇼
a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.
you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.
he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.
“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.
as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.
“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”
toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.
you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.
“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.
your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.
“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.
“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”
that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.
“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”
how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.
“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”
he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.
“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.
the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.
toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.
“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.
brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”
“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.
you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.
“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”
it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.
“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”
“i will good girl.”
he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”
you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.
he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.
“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.
“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.
“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”
“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”
his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.
he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”
“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.
“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.
“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.
it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.
toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.
as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.
“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.
“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”
“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.
“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.
“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.
“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.
“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.
“yes, want it,” you plead.
a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.
the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.
he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.
“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”
your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.
toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.
picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.
“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”
“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.
he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.
“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”
“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.
he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.
when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”
“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.
the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.
“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.
again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.
“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.
“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”
that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.
“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.
“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”
and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”
you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.
“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.
“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”
“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”
“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”
hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”
“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”
toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”
wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.
“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”
“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”
the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.
“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.
toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.
“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.
“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”
as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.
“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”
“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”
he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.
“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.
toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”
toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”
he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.
“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.
“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.
“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”
your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.
“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.
toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.
his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.
“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.
“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.
“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”
you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.
“how you feeling?” he asks.
“i’m more than perfect.”
he hums. “you’re something else.”
“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.
toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”
that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”
“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”
you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”
“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”
“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”
toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”
that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”
“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.
“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.
he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.
angelbwrry live : 1M viewers.
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡ 
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Simon Shares
Simon x reader, TF 141 x Reader
Summary: The team gathers at Simon’s house where his perfect girl hosts them. It’s a typical gathering, until it’s not (reader takes them all)
Authors note: I haven’t written a full piece in so long! I hope you don’t hate it 😭 just horny thoughts 😭
Warnings: reader is a needy slut, takes them all, p in v, spanking, overstimulation, and I think that’s it?
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You and Simon have been together for quite a while. Engaged actually. That being said, you’ve meet his team several times and have grown to like them and they have grown to love you plenty. You’ve hosted them for cookouts, watching the ball games, and sometimes just for cards and beer.
When the boys are over, you’re always sitting on Simon’s lap or close enough for him to have a hand on your thigh or around your hip.
You’re comfortable around them. They don’t mind that you join them. Simon doesn’t mind the way their eyes rake over your body when you’re serving them food. He doesn’t mind the comments they make after you’ve walked away. To be truthful, he doesn’t mind the idea of sharing his pretty little thing with them.
Usually the night ends long after you’ve gone to bed. Waking up to Simon crawling into bed and wrapping you in his arms. Tonight was different
The boys were coming over for a cookout and cards, typical. When you were on your grocery run you decided to not only buy their beer but also some fruity little drinks for yourself. Simon didn’t mind when you put them in the cart, only replying with a hum. He knew this could end with trouble but wanted to see how it played out. He knew alcohol made you horny and needy. He knew bratty you got when you didn’t get your way. But maybe this was his opening…
The night began like any other. The boys arrived and found their seats on the patio. You served them dinner. They made their remarks as you walked back in the house. Simon smirked as he noticed the extra sway of your hips as the alcohol gave you some extra confidence.
After dinner, you found your spot on Simon’s lap. He could tell you’ve almost reached your limit. He noticed the way wiggled in his lap. He noticed the pout on your lips when his hands stopped your movement. John was the first to notice. He noticed your little show and saw the pout of your lips. John flashed a smirk at Simon and was met with one back.
The boys continued to play their cards and you continued to get needier. Johnny could help but notice the way your nipples perk through your little tank top. Nudging Kyle to look too.
You were oblivious to the three men staring at you and chuckling at your neediness. All you wanted was Simon’s attention and he was too busy playing cards.
You eventually realized you weren’t going to get what you wanted and decided on just pouting. Arms crossed, pouty lips, and your back to Simon’s chest. You could feel the occasional chuckle but refused to acknowledge him.
“Baby, w’don’t ya go grab us some more beer?” Usually this was met with a kiss to the lips and you finding your way inside. Today, however, he was met with nothing.
John chimed in. “Yeah sweetheart, could use another cold one.” He flashed you a smile. Nothing. You refused to acknowledge any of them.
“I think someone is pouting”. You didn’t miss the mocking tone in Kyle’s voice.
“Am not!!” You all but yelled at him. Voice laced with attitude.
All the eyebrows were raised. You hadn’t ever dared to act like this around them. Them only ever seeing your sweetness.
Simon didn’t hesitate to pick you up and carry you inside. He sat you down on the kitchen counter and let his hands fall to either side of you. He wanted to give you a chance to fix it.
“What’s the problem? Hmm?”
You could feel the tears welling in your eyes. “Just need you!” Your pouty lip returned. Simon chuckled. “It’s not funny”, you say as you attempt to push him away.
“I know, baby, I know. I’ll give you all the attention you need later. But for now, I need you to be a good girl. Can you do that? Can you be patient?”
He didn’t miss your eye roll or the way you squirmed at being called a good girl. Nonetheless, you nodded and wiped your tears. Simon moved away to grab some beers from the fridge.
“Now when we get back out there, you’re going to apologize for your attitude and just sit patiently. Be a good girl, hm?”
“Yes, Si…” Simon helped you off the counter and guided you back to the patio.
“Oh thank you for the drink darling” Johns voice dropping with amusement as they could all see your tear stained eyes and pouty lip still present.
“Yah, such a sweet girl” Johnny replied.
Simon was still standing behind you as you finished passing out the drinks. He landed a gentle (for Simon) smack on your ass as a little nudge to get started with your apology. He didn’t miss the way Kyle and Johnny were readjusting in their seats
“‘m sorry for having an attitude…” your sentence was punctuated with a sigh as you sat down onto Simon’s lap again. The boys chuckled and began their card game once again. Simon readjusted you to where you were straddling one of his legs. Playing it off as he needed better access to the table.
Your neediness had subsided for only a few minutes before your hips began to roll on Simon’s thigh. Kyle and Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight. John only smirked.
As John was passing out the cards for the new round, Simon cleared his throat.
“The winner of this round can take care of this needy slut I have here. Can’t help but be needy. Isn’t that right?”
You suddenly got shy, sinking back into Simon.
“Oh come on baby, just so needy. It’s okay, we’ll get somebody to take care of you”
A whine escapes your lips as Simon ignores you in his lap. The game carries on with every man playing and praying for a chance at the pretty little thing in Simon’s lap. The round ends as Simon places down his last card.
“Come on, that’s not fair!” Kyle exclaims. Frustrated and bulging in his pants.
“Rules are rules” John replies as he eyes Simon.
“Your lucky day” Simon readjust you and begins to unzip his pants. Your panties are soaked at this point. Pussy dripping with desire at the idea of Simon taking you right here in front of them or the idea of one of them taking you. “Take em off”.
You get a little shy as your realize Simon is really going to take you right here. In front of all of them. “Come on baby, show em what they missed out on.”
You slowly take them off and Simon lowers you down onto his lap. The boys are drooling at this point. Palming themselves through their pants at the sight of Simon’s giant cock sliding into your soaking little pussy. Simon lets you ride him for just a little until he can tell you’re close to cumming. He hands still your hips and a whimper leaves your mouth.
“That’s enough baby. Gonna let someone else feel you. Whoever is lucky enough to win this round”
The round goes on for what feels like hours. Simon still hard inside you with his hands finding your hips anytime you try to move. He gives you a warning squeeze as he stills your hips once more.
You can’t help it. You’re just so so needy. You find your hips moving once again in search of any release. What you didn’t expect was Simon’s hand coming down, smacking your pussy.
“That’s enough.” His sentence punctuated with another slap. A moan escapes your lips. The round finally comes to and end as John puts down his last card Simon chuckles as he lifts you off his lap. You’re hesitant. Is this really happening? Is Simon really gonna let someone else fuck you? You question is answered with a smack to your ass. Your legs are wobbly as you make your way over to John. He already has his dick out, hand moving up and down.
“Come here sweetheart.” His hands find your hips as he guides you down onto him. You moan as he moves you up and down. “God Simon, such a perfect little thing you have. Taking me nice and good.” John fucks you nice and slow. Rolling your hips and helping you bounce up and down
All cards are on the table as all men have their hands wrapped around their cocks. All rock hard at the sight of John fucking Simon’s little play thing.
As you chase your high, John’s quickly follows. Your eyes meet Simon’s. His laced with lust and desire. You’re laced with need. Simon stands and makes his way to you, where you still sit with John’s cock inside you.
“There’s my good girl. Why don’t you show Johnny just how good you can be?”
You let him help you off of John’s lap and over to Johnny’s. Simon moves to behind Johnny and removes your top. Leaving you bare and vulnerable. Simon leans against the railing and watches as his teammate fucks you He doesn’t give you much time to rest. Johnny doesn’t take you as soft as John. He’s pounding in and out of your pussy. Tits bouncing in his face. He fucks you hard and fast. You’re quick to come again, Johnny coming with you. Your face falls to his shoulder “where’s that attitude now?” Johnny quips.
The boys chuckle as the pout reruns to your lip. “Oh there it is!” Kyle laughs as Simon guides you over to Kyle.
“Need help? Hm? Need to me help fix that attitude?” Kyle is grinning as Simon helps you onto his lap.
“Yes she does. Help her out Kyle” Simon is leaning back on the railing as the moans escape from your lips. Kyle isn’t gentle or nice. His hands find your nipples as he makes your ride him. More moans escaping as your hands find his wrists. His hands find your hips as he notices your slowing down from being tired. He pounds into you as you once again chase your high as he does too. “Too much” you mutter.
Simon helps your off his lap and bends you over the table. Before you can protest, he’s deep inside you pounding in and out.
“Is this what my needy slut wanted? Did you want me to fuck you here in front of all of them? Did you want them to fuck you? Just so needy.”
You can’t help as the tears fall down your cheeks. It’s just too much. You can’t take anymore.
Almost as if he can read your mind, “come on baby, just one more”. The boys coo at you as Simon takes you from behind. Their hands find your nipples, your ass, roaming your body. Their hands make your body burn from the overstimulation of taking them all.
Simon coaxes one more out of you and comes in you as the other boys cum leaks out. He can’t help but moan at the sight. Pussy dripping with all their cum, hips and ass red from their hands guiding you up and down, and cheeks tear stained from it being all too much.
John returns to the patio with a wet rag, not that you noticed he left. Simon helps your get cleaned up and Kyle helps you get dressed. Johnny brings you a glass of water and fixes your hair out of your face.
Simon picks you up as your wrap your legs and arms around him. He carries you inside and helps you to bed. He leaves you after holding you for a few minutes with a kiss on your forehead
He walks back outside to all the boys with a huge smile on their face. What you don’t realize is that it takes Simon way longer than usual to join you in bed. Too wrapped up in conversation with his boys about how beautiful and perfect you are.
Let’s just say, the gatherings are way more eventful after today. The boys finding more and more reasons to come over. You finding more and more reasons to host them. Simon doesn’t mind and you definitely don’t.
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unseededtoast · 2 days
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Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x Reader
Part Five
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Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.
Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
*Content warning: description of sexual activity*
"I saw the glare of a hidden camera, right over there."
Spencer waits until he's sure that you're sleeping before he makes his way to the dining table. He spreads out all of the photos the stalker slipped under your door and wrote down all the details of the case. He's working under the dim light from the lamp, and he himself fights off sleep. Like he said, there is no length too great for you.
Thanks to his impeccable memory, he's able to recall when you wore each outfit depicted in the photos. He's sure that this will help him construct the timeline of when this all began. Of course, it'll likely only be a ballpark estimate, as it's likely it took the stalker some time to build his confidence.
With the clues laid out in front of him, his mind works to put the puzzle together. He rearranges the photos and clues, switching things out every so often. As he works his mind also begins trying to form a narrative that makes sense.
The photos have all been taken within the last two months. This tells Spencer either the stalker has built a lot of confidence really quickly, or this has been going on for a lot longer than anyone realized. His stomach churns at the thought of an unknown man lurking outside of your apartment, just waiting to catch a glimpse of you.
The thought also gives him a drive to work harder and to think faster. He paces around the table, looking over the photos and other evidence again and again, hoping that the answer jumps out at him.
The exhaustion weighs his eyelids down and as he paces he rubs his eyes constantly. He's afraid that if he stops moving he'll fall asleep on the spot. And he can't afford to do that. No, he has to stay up and figure this out once and for all. And he's confident that the answer is right in front of him somehow. There has to be enough clues here to point him in the right direction.
He has to do this. For you. He has to make sure you're safe. He has to be sure nobody is lurking in the shadows waiting for you. He has to be sure. For he cannot bear the thought of someone else even putting a finger on you.
A jolt of adrenaline courses through his veins with the thought. The idea of another man putting his hands on you is enough to keep him up for days. He wants to be the only one who has the privilege of feeling your touch. He wants to be the one who you come to when you're upset. He wants to be the only one.
And so he cannot rest until he knows he's the only one.
He finally comes to a stop and leans forward on the table, his hands tightly gripping each side to support himself. Spencer takes a closer look at each picture and dissects each one, for every photo tells a story in and of itself.
It isn't until the sun shines through the curtains that he realizes he's stayed up all night constructing what he believes is the correct timeline. With tired, yet careful, hands he packs everything up in order and leaves it on the table so he can remember to take it with him when he goes to work. You're still not permitted to return to the office, under Hotch's orders, but Spencer most certainly can present this to the team.
He isn't sure exactly what he's going to say, but he knows he's going to have to work hard to keep his anger at bay.
"Spence?" Your groggy voice surprises him out of his thoughts. He stands straighter and offers a small, soft smile.
"Good morning, did you sleep okay?" He asks you, and you nod after a yawn. You walk over to him and rub your eyes, and Spencer is sure he's never seen such a beautiful sight.
"Did you sleep at all?" You ask him, your eyes carefully looking over the finer details of his face. He feels a blush creep up his neck, and he knows there's no point in lying.
"No, I had something much more important to do." He says, licking his lips as his eyes glance between your eyes and your lips. He notices the crease between your eyebrows and he can almost guess what's going to come out of your mouth next.
"Spencer. You need sleep, you can't just function like this. Please, before you leave, get a few hours in. I'll call Hotch, he will understand." You say, already reaching for your phone. Your pointed look tells him that you're not going to take no for an answer.
And so he obeys your wishes, shuffling over to the familiar couch and tries to get comfortable. Truthfully, the couch is almost unbearable to sleep on, but he knows he would make it work every single time you asked him to.
———
The phone rings as you hold it to your ear. You chew anxiously on the skin inside of your cheek, hoping Hotch answers. Your eyes are trained on the back of the couch, where Spencer had laid down.
"Hotchner." Your supervisor's voice booms in your ear.
"Good morning, listen I have a little bit of a favor to ask." You keep your voice low, not wanting Spencer to hear the conversation.
"What is it?" You hear the curiosity in his voice and you can almost picture the slight squint of his eyes.
"Spencer stayed up all night long. And I mean all night. Any chance you could count that as on-duty time and let him have the day off?" You know it's really wishful thinking, but you're hoping you have enough of a justification. Hotch is silent on the other end and you're sure he's going to shoot down the idea.
"I can say he was with you as part of the security detail. Have either of you had any luck figuring things out?" You hear a door shut on the other end, and you know this conversation is now completely private. With a sigh, you answer.
"Maybe? I don't know what he found out last night, I made him get some rest. But I'm sure he'll explain it all to me soon. And I'm sure you'll be the next to know." You tell him, eyes glancing back to the couch.
"I'm counting on it. Be careful and see you soon." Hotch says before hanging up. Without another thought, you leave your phone on the table and make your way over to Spencer. You see his disheveled curls before the rest of him, and it reminds you to offer him a haircut. You had meant to offer one before, but then things got out of hand.
"Hey Spence." You whisper, not wanting to wake him as you go to stand in front of him. His sleepy eyes stare back into yours, the exhaustion finally hitting him.
"Hmm?" He hums, his lips ticking up in the softest of smiles.
"How about you get off this uncomfortable couch and go crawl into bed." You offer and hope it doesn't cross a line he's not willing to surpass. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes himself up into a sitting position.
"No, no I can't invade your space like that." He keeps his voice soft and it melts your heart, his puppy eyes are just the cherry on top.
You cant help yourself and reach out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Feeling the tension in the muscle, your other hand find his other shoulder and you try to work out the stress. His eyes flutter shut as your hands relax the muscles under your fingertips.
"Come on." You whisper, beckoning him to stand from the couch. It must be his relaxed and sleepy state, but he stands without protest and lets you lead him to your room.
You sit him on the edge of the bed and your fingers undo the tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes are still heavy as he looks up at you, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him close to you. Spencer's head rests on your chest, and you allow your fingers to weave their way into his curls, where you slowly scratch and massage his head.
Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and you wish you could live in this moment forever. The two of you remain just like this for what feels like a small eternity, one you don't want to end.
"I've got a change of clothes for you." You say before pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head. Reluctantly he lets you go over to your dresser, where you keep some clothes of his that he's left over the years.
He takes them and goes to the bathroom while you quickly work to straighten out the blankets and pillows for him. And it isn't long before he comes back into the room, looking much more comfortable than before. A smile finds its way onto your face as he goes back to your bed. He sets his old clothes on the night stand and yawns.
"Get some rest. Hotch said you have the rest of the day off." You keep your voice light. You rake your fingers through Spencer's hair once more before you turn to leave so he can get some much needed sleep.
The moment you turn around to leave, Spencer's hand is around your wrist, gently keeping you in place. You turn to look at him and your lips fall apart. Never before have you seen Spencer Reid look so at home than in this moment; it's almost as if he's belonged right here all this time.
"Stay with me." You aren't sure if it's a statement or a question, but either way you're at a loss for words. Tongue-tied and flustered, you feel your face grow warm.
"You need to get some rest, I'll just be right out there." You say, knowing full well you'd rather be right here next to him. The corner of his mouth turns up,
"Just so I know you're safe." He says, and it sounds like the most legitimate reason ever to stay. You nod your head, playing into the rationale.
"Just so you know I'm safe." You repeat his words and you walk around the bed and join him. And why shouldn't you take him up on the offer? After all, there's a crazed man out there looking for you.
Your heart races as you sit on the opposite side, and you feel like a teenager with a crush all over again. Spencer turns to face you and he pulls the covers back, inviting you inside the warmth with him. You hope he doesn't notice the tremble in your hands as you move or the pounding of your heart as you settle beside him.
Your bed is warm and inviting, and you find your face merely inches away from Spencer's. You stare into each other's eyes and he reaches for your hands under the blankets. You watch as he lazily blinks and intertwines your fingers together.
"Just so I know you're safe." He repeats.
"Right, just so you know I'm safe." You echo once again, moving closer to him, as if you two were magnets being drawn towards one another.
In this moment, the rest of the world has dissolved, disappeared into nothingness. All you can see is Spencer's eyes and the multitudes of depths held within. His skin is warm on yours, his comforting smell infiltrates your senses.
You rest your forehead against his, just barely, and fight the urge to grab his face and seal the deal. But it seems Spencer isn't able to control his urges as well. He untangles a hand from yours and trails it up your arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. His large hand moves up your shoulder and cups your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone with careful tenderness.
With your free hand you reach up and place it on his jaw, mirroring his movements exactly. His skin is soft under your touch and you commit it to memory. You watch as his tongue wets his lower lip as he glances down at yours. Your heartbeat resounds in your ears, your skin is set ablaze by his touch.
You never want to forget this feeling of his skin on yours, his thumb caressing your face. You never want to smell anything other than him. And you most certainly never want to see anyone else in your bed. There's nobody you'd rather be with.
Even the thought of him sharing a moment like this with anyone else makes you sick to your stomach. You can't imagine his hands on anyone else, his smiles being for someone other than you. You know for a fact that jealousy would run hot in your veins if he went out of his way to comfort someone like he does for you. You want his affection all for yourself, you want all of his attention all the time.
It dawns on you in that moment, staring into his eyes, that you've fallen in love with your best friend.
And you simply can't stand not having his lips on yours any longer.
Gently, you guide his face towards yours and place your lips on his. His hand on your face holds you in place as he kisses you with passion. Your body feels like it's been set on fire, all you can feel is an all-consuming need for Spencer. The two of you kiss each other like your lives depend on it; everything you haven't said to one another becoming abundantly clear.
Spencer frees his other hand from yours and grabs your hip, pulling you closer to his body. A breathless gasp leaves your mouth as he kisses your cheek down to your jaw. The hand that's not on his face tightly grasps his shoulder as a ripple of pleasure shivers throughout your body.
His lips find the sensitive spot on your neck and you're unable to hold back the sound of pleasure you moan into his ear. The sound only seems to encourage him as his tongue swirls around the spot before gently sucking on it.
"Spencer." You airily say, your body involuntarily pressing against him.
"Hmm?" He hums in response. You take another shaky breath, uncertain about what you're even about to say, you just know you want him all over you.
"Please-" Your words are interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. And just like that, your own private little world crumbles around the two of you.
In an instant, your blood runs cold and your heart feels like it's going to stop. Spencer must see the fear written all over your face as he sits up, taking his warmth with him. He straightens his clothes and gets out of bed, ordering you to stay there. You comply without question, terrified to think who may be waiting on the other side.
As soon as Spencer goes to check the door, your eyes lock onto your night stand where you've been keeping your gun, just in case. You hold your breath when the door opens and hear Spencer talking to the other person.
———
Unknown POV
The moment I walk into work, I can tell something is wrong. Something in the air tells me that today is going to be a lot more complicated than I bargained for. I see it in my subordinate's eyes, the way he's seemingly stressed and anxious.
But I pretend that nothing is wrong, and don't let on that I know something is not quite right. Truthfully, the only thing on my mind is logging in and opening up the cameras.
It's been too long since I've seen her beautiful face on my screen. The new cameras that were installed were a Godsend; they let me see her in much more high quality, to the point where it seems I can almost feel how soft and smooth her skin is.
Once I sit down and log in, I pull up the sixth floor cameras. But she isn't there. No, her computer is turned off and none of her belongings are there. She wasn't scheduled for any time off, I just looked the other day.
My heart rate increases as I pull up the BAU timesheet. My eyes quickly scan the page and see that she's scheduled to be here. Closing the tab, I look around the department. But not only is she missing, it seems Spencer is gone as well.
My hands ball into tight fists as I try not to punch a hole in the desk. Why aren't they here? They're both scheduled to be here, so they should be here. There's no good reason why the two of them are gone at the same time for no apparent reason.
But what if she's in some sort of trouble? If she's in trouble I need to be there for her, I have to be there for her. I close out of the camera system and begin formulating an excuse to leave for a little bit when one of my subordinates knocks on my office door.
"Do you have a moment, sir?" He asks, the nerves thick in his voice. Fighting the inner rage I force a cordial smile onto my face and beg my eye to stop twitching.
"Of course." I force my voice to be level. If I can just get this out of the way then I can race across town and make sure she's okay.
The man sits across from my desk and I watch as he swallows hard. If only he knew what he was keeping me from, he wouldn't be wasting my time like this.
"Sir, Aaron Hotchner of the BAU called me down to inspect one of their computers. He said they suspected it had been tampered with." His words unsettle me slightly, but I know my work is thorough, it's solid.
"And I'm assuming you took a look?" I ask, desperate to know what the BAU knows. If their team only consisted of the profilers, wouldn't have needed to cover my tracks so well. But because of their technical analyst, I could cut no corners.
"I did." The man nods his head and I shrug.
"And?" I press, wishing he would get to the point. I wonder if this has any bearing on her absence this morning. And it makes me wonder if Spencer had any hand in this situation. After all, it would make sense, he's been trying to keep me from her this entire time.
"Sir I found evidence of AES 128." I try my best to look shocked and startled by this information. The look on the man's face tells me that he knows he's in over his head with this one, and I know without question he will never be able to solve it. In fact, nobody can solve it. That's why it was so perfect to use.
"That is... not good." I lean forward and keep my façade up. The man shakes his head and continues,
"No sir. And I told Agent Hotchner about it. He asked if there's anything we could do. I told him I would have to speak to you because of the encryption's sophistication." The man elaborates and I fight the urge to smile. Perhaps Hotch will let us handle this and won't involve their technical analyst.
Even if they did, she wouldn't be able to crack the code either. Feeling more confident that everything is going according to plan, I excuse the man across from me and tell him I'm going to look into the matter. But really, I just need to see her.
It doesn't take long to reach the familiar street corner. Though I'm taking a substantial risk by being here in the day, I couldn't wait until this evening. No, I need to know she's okay.
Unable to bring my binoculars like usual, I take my phone out and zoom in completely. The picture quality isn't great, but it'll have to do for now. Even a grainy image of her would be enough.
Pictures of her smiling and being carefree dance in my head. Maybe she just needed a personal day. Perhaps she needed a break from Spencer and the way he's always suffocatingly around her. But then the question still remains of where he is. Surely they didn't both skip work and surely they aren't in her apartment here together. No, it has to be a coincidence. It has to be.
Feeling the tips of my fingers tingle with anxiety I exit the camera app on my phone and dig into the BAU's files for anything recent mentioning her, or Spencer. The page that comes up is enough to send borderline homicidal thoughts through my mind.
She has been placed under a security detail and Spencer is assigned to stay with her. Direct orders from Agent Hotchner. My eyes flick back up to her window that's partially obscured by the curtains he put up and I see her leading him into her bedroom.
I see her holding his hand as she takes him into her bedroom and I put my phone away, afraid that if I grip onto it any harder that it would shatter into a million pieces. My feet move before I can comprehend what I'm doing. All I know is that I have to interrupt whatever is happening between the two of them in her bedroom. It should be me that she's leading in there, it should be me that gets to feel the softness of her skin, it should all be me.
As I race to the building, flashbacks pop into my head from the night at the bar. I remember how he held her hand, how he opened her car door, and how he left with her. I wonder then what happened after they left. The thought of Spencer being the one that gets to experience her, to be around her, makes me see red.
If only I had been able to speak to her that night, then this would not be an issue. Then she would have to see that I'm the only suitable man for her. If only Spencer had turned against her like the majority of the BAU, then this wouldn't be an issue. But for some reason, he hadn't bought it like the others. He was supposed to, just like the others.
I feel my thoughts begin to spiral out of control as I enter the building, upset beyond comprehension that my plan is starting to crumble right in front of my eyes. If I want to pull this off, I know I'm going to have to do something drastic.
My chest heaves as I knock on her door, and I wait for whoever is going to answer, unsure of what my plan even is. I just need to see her. I need to be around her. I cannot take being apart any longer.
———
Spencer opens the door and is met with a familiar face, but not one he expected to see. It takes him a moment to place the man's name and department, but once he does, it still doesn't make sense.
"Agent Valentine?" Spencer asks, trying to take a step forward to have this conversation in the hallway, but Valentine steps forward into the apartment instead.
"Agent Reid." Valentine's voice sounds strained and Spencer wonders what happened to cause Valentine to be here. Nobody should've been granted access to the building except regular confirmed tenants and those approved by the security detail; neither of which Valentine is.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Spencer questions, curious as to why the unit chief of the IT department came to your apartment. Surely if this had anything to do with the encryption Valentine would go to Hotch, not here.
But Spencer reserves any further questions and waits for the man's answer. It seems that he's half distracted by looking around your apartment instead of focusing on why he's here in the first place. Spencer watches as the man's eyes linger on the window before they travel to your bedroom door. But when Valentine's eyes meet Spencer's once more, he seems to snap out of his trance.
"Yes, I came here because of the situation." Valentine gestures vaguely and Spencer nods, carefully looking the man over. His shoulders seem rigid, his eyes dart around erratically, and it looks like he's been sweating.
"Right. Who sent you here? We're under an active security detail." Spencer pushes for more information, worried that something even worse had been discovered than the encryption found in your electronic records.
"I'm aware of the detail and the encryption, and we're actively working on it. But for added protection I'm here to offer the installation of motion-activated cameras. We had some left over from the replacements in the office, we thought they might be helpful." Valentine seems to be all business now. He stands with an authoritative posture, his eyes glued to Spencer's face.
"I'm not at liberty to make that decision. Would you mind waiting here for a second?" Spencer asks and Valentine agrees, taking a few steps back to allow Spencer to go to your room.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him before he looks up and sees you with your hand hovering over your nightstand. Your eyes are wide, like a deer caught in the headlights. But once you see it's him, you relax your shoulders. He walks closer to you and places a gentle hand on your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.
"Who was it?" You ask him, eyes glancing towards the door. Spencer licks his lips and drops his hand.
"Agent Valentine, from IT. He wants to speak to you." Spencer tells you. If it were up to him, you wouldn't be going out there to talk to the man at all. Something just doesn't quite feel right. But, it is ultimately your decision as to how you want to handle your security measures.
"Valentine's here?" You ask, seemingly just as confused as he is. Spencer nods as you get off the bed and walk towards the door. While your back is turned, Spencer grabs your firearm out of the nightstand and puts it in the back of his pants as he realizes he left his out in your living room.
He joins the two of you in the living area, seeing that Valentine had moved over to the window. He's looking through the curtains down to the street and smiles when you walk out.
"Good morning." He greets you with a warm smile, his demeanor change is subtle, but Spencer notices it; his shoulders aren't taut anymore, his eyes seem to soften. Spencer lingers in the background, focused on the man's behavior. There's just something not right about him being here. It goes against security detail protocol, and he's never known Hotch to allow a breach of those rules.
"What can I do for you?" You ask, keeping a good distance between yourself and Valentine, which he's quick to try and close. He takes a few steps towards you and you hold your position by the couch.
"We've been made aware of your situation and have some left over cameras from the installation of the new system, we thought you might like to have some installed." He tells you, looking around your apartment. Valentine's eyes linger on your bedroom door.
Spencer notices the file that's been left on the dining room table, and he makes slow movements over to it, where he covers it to the best of his ability with a placemat.
"Oh, um, that's very kind, thank you. Would it be okay if I thought it over and got back to you?" You ask, and a rush of relief comes over Spencer. His eyes focus in on Valentine, who wears a strained, forced smile.
"Of course. Would you like my number so you can contact me? I fear this story isn't quite complete yet, who knows what else could happen." He reaches for his phone in his pocket eagerly, contrasting his eerie words.
"That's okay, I have your office number." You answer professionally and take one small step back, towards Spencer. Spencer sees Valentine's knuckles grow white from the firm grip he has on his phone.
"Perfect. Hope to hear from you soon. If there's anything, and I mean anything, I can do for you, please let me know." Valentine's voice almost has traces of begging in it as he speaks to you, taking one step closer. Spencer stands straighter, ready to step in if he sees you becoming uncomfortable.
"Will do, thank you." You say and start walking towards the door. Like a leashed dog, Valentine follows you, his eyes darting every which way, as if he's trying to memorize the layout of your apartment.
You open the door to the apartment and Valentine takes a deep breath before he steps out into the hall. Before leaving, he turns around and looks at you once more, a smile back on his face.
"Like I said, if there's anything I can do. I don't want you to worry that brilliant mind of yours." He restates before turning to leave.
Once he's gone you close the door and turn back to face Spencer, a confused look on your face. You walk to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Spencer gets his phone out to send a message to Hotch.
"Hey, did you send Valentine from IT over?" Spencer is anxious to find out the answer. He grabs the file from underneath the placemat and stares at it, you join his side silently, the two of you deep in thought.
———
Hours later, the sun begins setting and casts a golden glow throughout your apartment. You had sent Spencer back to bed after Valentine left, but opted to stay out here instead of rejoining him. You couldn't get your mind to rest, something about Valentine's visit was unsettling.
Of course you knew who Valentine was, you had even talked to him on several occasions. He's helped you and some of the others out with various IT problems over the years. He was always quiet and nice, his behavior today somewhat contradicted what you expected from him. But perhaps he was just more relaxed to be out of the office, maybe he's under less stress these days, or maybe he's found his confidence. Whatever it is, it doesn't quite sit right with you.
You get off the couch and walk over to the window, glancing out to the street. Your eyes look around but see nothing out of the ordinary, but you weren't even sure what you were looking for in the first place. You're unable to settle down and make your way to the dining table and spread out the contents of the folder in the exact order Spencer had put it all away.
With careful eyes you look over each piece of evidence, hoping and praying to see something new, some small clue that would break this case wide open. All you see are photos of yourself, some from open-source available articles, some taken by the stalker himself you presume, and then your official FBI photo, not available to the public. The articles are notated in a way that highlights your successes and handwritten notes that state you deserve more. There surely has to be something here.
Between the flowers, the retagged evidence, the altered records, and the contents of the file, there's one commonality that you just can't seem to pin down. You force yourself to think strictly as a profiler and not a victim and go to grab a spare piece of paper to brainstorm possibilities.
While you're writing down your thoughts, you hear your bedroom door open. A sleepy Spencer emerges, his hair disheveled and sticking up several different ways. With a smile, you set the paper down and go to him, standing on your tip-toes to smooth his hair over. Butterflies erupt in your tummy as he smiles back down at you, and you suddenly become acutely aware that you two hadn't talked about what happened earlier.
But before you could even ask, Spencer leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.
"How'd you sleep?" You ask him, looking up through your lashes. Spencer's hands settle on your hips and he blinks slowly.
"I slept alright. You were right, by the way." He grins and you shake your head, not understanding.
"Right about what?" You ask.
"Your bed is way more comfortable than the couch." He smiles wider and lets you go.
"Who would've thought?" You sarcastically ask, making your way to the kitchen.
You pull out ingredients for a simple dinner and pour two glasses of wine, pushing one over to Spencer. He watches as you move about preparing dinner, silently sipping his drink. Soon, the smell of dinner engulfs the apartment and you realize just how hungry you had been.
"Do you want to watch a movie or something? I can't think about that any more tonight, my brain feels like it's been put through a blender." You ask, hoping he will say yes. He takes another sip as his eyes glance over the evidence on the table before he nods.
"Yeah, a movie sounds nice." He smiles and the two of you eat dinner on the couch together.
You try to let your mind relax, you feel like you've run several mental marathons back to back and it's all catching up to you. Almost your every thought has centered around who could possibly be the one watching you for almost a week now, but with the security detail around and Spencer here, you try to let it go for just a little while. You're in the safest place you could possibly be.
Once the two of you are finished with dinner, you top off your glasses and return to the couch. Spencer had been sure to close the curtains fully tonight, saying something about taking extra caution. And you were appreciative of the gesture, knowing he would do anything to keep you safe.
You lean your head on his shoulder and let your hand find his. He interlaces your fingers together and traces his thumb on the back of your hand. You're not entirely sure what's going on between the two of you, and quite frankly you don't really care to put a label on it, you're happy to just let things naturally progress, no formality needed.
You shift closer to Spencer and he wraps an arm around you, bringing you flush against him. In his arms you feel safe, like nothing could possibly go wrong. Looking up at him you see that he's already looking at you, so you lean forward and kiss him.
Spencer's hand caresses your face and he kisses you again, red wine lingering on his lips. He's gentle, soft, and everything you imagined he would be. You know there's no going back after today, that your relationship with Spencer will never be the same. Your fingers tangle in his hair as the kiss deepens and Spencer lays you back on the couch.
He's hovering over you, lips kissing down your jaw while you grab the front of his shirt and pull him as close to you as possible. The way he smells intoxicates you, the masculine smell of cedar envelopes your senses and drives you crazy. Without thinking, you wrap a leg around his waist and shudder at the feeling of him pressed against you.
Your mouth falls open and a gasp escapes you, and Spencer moans in your ear with the newfound contact. You want your hands all over him and you want him all over you. Your chest rises with heavy breaths, Spencer's lips trail further and further down your neck.
The movie had stopped playing, leaving the two of you in the dark. But that didn't stop you, if anything, it made you more bold. You guide Spencer's head back up to you and kiss him passionately, pressing your hips into his. He shudders with pleasure and this time it's your turn to place sloppy kisses down his jaw.
You push him back up so he's sitting upright and you climb onto his lap. His hands immediately grab onto your hips and push them down onto him, the both of you moaning into each other's mouths. You reconnect your lips to his neck, loving the way his fingers dig into you skin. Spencer is breathless under you, and he whispers your name.
You ignore it at first, thinking he's expressing his pleasure. But then he whispers your name again and stills your movement. Guilt and dread fill you quickly and you get off of him,
"Spencer I'm so sorry I-" Your apology is silenced with Spencer's hand over your mouth. Confused, your eyebrows draw together and Spencer leans forward, whispering so lowly in your ear you can hardly hear his words. But what he says will be sure to haunt you.
"I saw the glare of a hidden camera, right over there." His lips are basically pressed right against your ear. Your heart thumps in your chest as you look over, and sure enough, you see it as well.
It's small, and the only way you're able to see it is by the tiny red blinking light that goes off every few seconds. The light draws your eye and then you see the lens glare right above it.
You look back at Spencer, feeling nauseous. He removes his hand from your mouth, and all you can do is cling to him. Your chest feels tight and you can't think straight. Who knows how long it's been there? And who knows how much the person on the other side has seen.
*****************************************
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deathbxnny · 1 day
Note
Ok but Boothill, Aventurine and Welt with a reader being controlled by Sunday ( him and his tuning gift? ) and being made to attack them (idk maybe then trying to snap reader out of it or something along them lines ) please!
Ooh! I really love this idea, Anon! Now I wasn't sure whether you wanted this to be romantic or platonic, so I made it romantic! Thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like this!<3
Content: Mind control, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of guns, injuries, Romantic relationship, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
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》WELT YANG
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Welt knew this wouldn't end well when he saw you succumb to the Halovian man's tuning ability. He tried to stop it before it took over you and yet found himself reaching you way too late. It was as though the world slowed down, the wretched music playing through the battlefield falling deaf on his ears, once he realised that there was nothing he could do that wouldn't possibly hurt you.
His heart ached when he saw you mindlessly attack him, trying your best to end his life, one you swore to live at his side with forever. He was losing his cool, unable to control the anger and desperation that ran through him with every hit he deflected. And yet, he still couldn't find it in him to attack you back even once, as he called for you to finally wake up.
When he does get you back to reality, he won't let you dwell on what you've done for even a second. He may have some injuries, but that means nothing to him when he knows you're safe again in his arms.
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》AVENTURINE
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This wasn't a part of the plan. It was never supposed to happen. You were never even supposed to have come with him to this forsaken planet in the first place. And yet... had he perhaps let his own plans and ideals lead him to both of your ruins? Alot ran through his mind whilst he watched you attack him viciously, skillfully dodging every hit without even ever thinking about hurting you back. Not that he ever could.
He realises that he'd let you place your hands around your neck and squeeze the life out of him if it means to not lay a singular hand on him. His anger towards Sunday was burning through his soul, and yet he had to stay confident in hoping that his plans would simply come through one way or another. He could only pray to his long, forgotten God that it would.
However, that doesn't mean that he won't risk both of your life's, if he finds a way to save you from the Halovian man's control. Risk is something he lives for. It's the gamble that kept you alive for so long, and he trusts in your own trust for him to do the right thing. Being injured in the process doesn't mean anything to him, once he realises that he hit the jackpot and got you right back at his side.
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》BOOTHILL
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To say that Boothill never takes any chances on your safety would be an understatement. His temper rises when he sees your conscious slip away, and Sunday's tuning takes control of your mind. Now, he would never hurt you either, but that doesn't mean he won't manhandle you into a position that will stop you from moving and potentially hurt yourself, him or others, for that matter. He needs to get you out of the way immideatly, so he can get revenge on your behalf.
With that said, he is not afraid to pull the trigger on the evil chicken boy the second he can. He can look past alot of things, but certainly not someone messing with the last person he still had left. He's angry, beyond angry, in fact. He won't let Sunday get away with this and if it's the last thing he does.
Once he finally gets you back to reality, he'll try his best to comfort you whilst assuring you that he wasn't hurt in any way... even if he can't necessarily be hurt physically anyway.
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Alrighttt... I finally was able to post SOMETHING after being tortured by life for so long lol... anyways, thank you again to the Anon for the great request and I hope you guys liked this!!<33
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sleepyjuice · 2 days
Text
r u mine? — jj maybank
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summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.
word count: 4181
warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff
a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3
“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.
“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.
“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.
“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.
You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.
You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.
But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.
So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.
You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.
jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??
jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?
jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b
You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.
You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.
You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.
This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.
“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.
Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.
“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.
“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“
“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.
“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.
you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about
you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao
you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??
you: have a good night at work! <3
You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.
“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.
“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…
An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.
You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.
You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.
“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.
You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.
You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.
“Oh, so you do have a phone.”
You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.
“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.
“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.
“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.
“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.
“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.
“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.
“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.
“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.
“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.
“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.
“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.
You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.
His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.
“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.
You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.
His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.
You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.
“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.
“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.
“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.
“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.
“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.
“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.
The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.
“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.
“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.
“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.
You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.
“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.
“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.
“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.
“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.
Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.
“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.
You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.
“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.
You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.
“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.
You didn’t even hesitate before responding.
“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.
He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.
“Don’t fuck with me —“
“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.
“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.
“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“
“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.
“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.
You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.
“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.
The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.
His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.
“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.
“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.
“Mhm, I’m still yours.”
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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days
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🦇❤️‍🩹☔️
mechanic!Eddie x fem!reader
cw: make out session
You had hated Eddie Munson’s guts ever since he had accidentally ruined your science fair project in the third grade. Yes, he had claimed that it was an accident, but you weren’t so sure. You had been convinced that it was premeditated. That he had done it on purpose because he was convinced that you were going to win and he wanted to put a stop to it however he could. But you were on to him.
And Eddie didn’t like you either. But solely because he had tried to apologize multiple times over the years into to have you call him a liar and yell at him because you were still so angry with him even though it had been seventeen years since the incident. If he was being honest, he kind of found it hot when you yelled at him like that.
Every time you crossed paths in town, you both would turn the other way, not even wanting to make eye contact. Your blood boiled every time your eyes locked in his brown ones and you had to look away immediately, even though you kind of liked the way they looked. But only kind of.
You were on your way to Robin’s, driving as carefully as you could as it stormed outside, rain hitting your car you drove down the road. You hated driving in it, but knew that you didn’t have a choice since you had were already in your way. You had to be there in ten minutes and definitely weren’t going to make it on time.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, your car broke down, but at least you had enough time to pull off to the side of the road so you could get out of the way of traffic. You called Robin to let her know that you had to cancel then called AAA for roadside assistance.
You knew that would take a while so you sat there, turning on the proper lights to let people know you were in need of assistance. If it hadn’t been storming, you definitely would have just walked to the mechanic that was down the road, but hearing the thunder and seeing the lightning deterred you. You knew that getting struck by it was rare, but you weren’t taking any chances.
Out of the blue, a van pulled up in front of your car and you grabbed the pepper spray from your purse as you watched the stranger get out of their vehicle. They approached you and knocked on your window. You immediately recognized that it was Eddie. What the hell was he doing there? Whatever it was, you didn’t want it.
You slowly rolled your windows down and Eddie leaned down so he could talk to you. You took in his very wet hair and scruffy facial hair. His nose ring. His lip ring. He looked…hot and you didn’t like admitting that.
“Car break down?” He asked, making sure that his voice was loud enough to hear over the rain. You were in no position to say no to help, so you didn’t.
“It broke down and I’m too scared to get out to check.”
“Allow me.” Before you could protest, Eddie ran over to your hood and opened it to see that his suspicious were correct. Your battery was dead. You got out of the car and headed towards him to see what the damage was.
“Your battery is dead. I’ve got keys to place down the street I can call a tow to get you there. In the meantime, I can stay with you.”
“You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. And I’m not gonna just leave you here all by yourself late at night in the rain.” He was going to stay with you despite his dislike for you? That was definitely more than you would have done for him.
You watched him call the tow truck and wondered what he was playing at. Why was he being so nice when you had been nothing but rude to him for practically your whole lives?
“Why are you doing this?” You asked as soon as he hung up. You didn’t understand and really wanted some answers.
“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean that I hate you. Actually, hearing you insult me is actually kinda hot. I like seeing you riled up.”
“So you did all of that shit just because you like seeing me pissed off?”
“Guilty,” he shrugged. You didn’t know what you were doing, but as soon as the word left his mouth, you pulled him into a kiss, your fingers gripping his shirt tightly. He gasped into your mouth, but quickly melted into you his hands moving to your waist as your lips moved together.
He moved your head back to he could get more access to your mouth as he pushed his tongue into it, letting it scrape against yours. His facial hair scratched against your skin and that mixed with your tongues tangling was driving you wild. He backed you up to the hood of your car and helped you sit on it as he spread your legs, stepping between them.
“I still hate you by the way,” you mumbled against his lips.
“By the end of the night, you won’t be saying that,” he smirked and pulled you in for another kiss before taking you by the hand and leading you to his van to have his way with you right there in the back of it.
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citrinae · 23 hours
Text
mornings with them.
contents; fluff, suggestive themes. warming up with some bite-sized headcanons. hope you guys enjoy <3
ft. the monster trio
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⋆ ˚。༄ luffy
if he’s up before you are, that’s only because of the growling sound coming from his stomach. cross-legged on the bed with a lost look in his eyes, “imma get something to eat.” he’s definitely forgotten about the piles of snacks he keeps in his locker and that he makes sure to restock after every meal with your crewmates. 
i can see him being a cuddly type. really likes to hug you from behind. in bed, while you're standing up, while you're brushing your teeth. if you happen to be the one to wake up first, fetch him some food from the kitchen and you will earn yourself a good series of hugs from your boyfriend. if not, that's ok, because luffy is a biter too, and he will not hold back from digging his teeth into your shoulder to convince you to go to the kitchen with him. this may or may not lead to the two of you enjoying some other type of meal. 
the thing is that luffy, the moment he wakes up, won't stand staying in for too long. especially if you're on land he'll want to explore the surroundings and will try to make you join him on the adventure. knowing how much of a menace he can be objectively speaking you may have no other choice but tag along, but trust me, nothing will make him happier than getting to spend the first hours of the day with his partner in crime <3 
“that was so cool,” he's saying to you as your backs are glued to the wall of a random building, chests heaving. out of the corner of your eye, you can see a group of marines searching aimlessly for your missing shadows. luffy takes you by the hand, “we showed ‘em good.” 
⋆ ˚。༄ zoro
you wake up first. but you’re never getting out of bed before he would, and that’s in most cases due to the fact that the arms resting around you are too heavy to lift on your own. you tried slipping away once or twice, but he always managed to keep you there. not like you mind it one bit, nestling yourself at your boyfriend’s chest filling you with a strange sense of warmth you wouldn't let go that easily. 
“easy, tiger. what’s the rush?” his voice is sleepy with a guttural undertone to it. “staying in for a minute longer won’t set the ship on fire or anything. proven.” zoro will try to make you two stay in bed with him for as long as possible. you don’t even get a chance to convince him otherwise as he’s quick to fall back into his snooze, and you are usually soon to follow. the second time you open your eyes it’s because of the voices and steps coming from the hallway telling you that you might’ve overslept.
he also likes it when you lazily climb on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, enjoying each other's presence in silence. in the morning, he may not be the best converser. but there are times his hand may roll down your back, taking a good squeeze of your butt with a smirk plastered on his face, and that's when you know you will definitely be late to your chores. 
if you’re on land, he might make it a habit to carry you on his back for a morning jog, the sun unfurling behind your forms as hours roll past. if you’re more the athletic type like he is, he’d gladly have you running by his side. either way, i think starting his daily training with you would work like the perfect energiser for him. although he would never admit it out loud. 
⋆ ˚。༄ؘ sanji
i find sanji to be quite the early bird, having to set up breakfast for the entire crew and doing some first-hour arrangements in the kitchen and all that, so he wakes up before you do. almost every time. he’s already done with more than half of his chores by the time you open your eyes. when it comes to you, however, breakfast in bed is one of the many tell-tale signs of special treatment, and more often than not you get to wake up to the smell of coffee or favourite tea and a well-thought mix of sweet treats. 
corny is this man’s second language. if you’re on land, expect to see some tiny bouquets of flowers on the tray, either bought or picked from around the ship, everything looking just so dainty and perfect “like you are, my love.” one of them finds its way behind your ear with a sweet peck on your lips. 
and not rarely does he join you with his own cup of tea. leg to leg, your head leaning against his shoulder. a hundred percent the type to smoke in bed. he likes to take a few moments of tenderness with you, gently kissing your shoulder and neck and talking about your plans for the day. sanji will intently listen to you talk about any weird dreams you had, but if you tell him he wasn’t present in any of them he’ll most certainly become a pouting mess. 
he gets handsy quickly 💀 and your thighs are perhaps his favourite spot to feel beneath the sheets. the longer you let him he’s one step closer to skipping cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast. but the moment often shatters with some thuds at the door accompanied by luffy’s voice, all broken and teary, begging sanji to unlock the fridge. 
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What Attracts Them [1]
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Alastor
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Vulnerability. If there is any weakness or fault in your self-concept, Alastor will pick up on it and try to exploit it to garner a connection with you. He’s not particularly fond of approaching someone without an ulterior motive in mind or solely because he finds you mildly interesting -among other sinners, that is. He needs leverage and uses whatever he can pry or observe about you to his advantage. Need protection? He’ll offer to guard you. Need financial support. He’ll hand over any amount you desire. As long as you either sell your soul or initiate loyalty to him, Alastor will proudly proclaim you his (property).
Alastor is wildly addicted to dual-sided sinners. The pure joy he gets from seeing you go from being sweet, shy, and agreeable to bloodthirsty, witty, and downright stubborn gets him going. You don’t often get that way unless it’s to put someone in their place or to show how protective you are of him -even if he’s far more powerful than you in every way. Still, when you do, his grin stretches wider than usual, and he’ll constantly try to encourage your violent behavior out into the open after the fact.
He’s got a massive thing for motherly types. Partly because he is a momma’s boy but mostly because he is very prone to being taken care of, as much as he’ll deny needing anyone’s help. What overlord would willingly say they like having their ears petted, antlers touched, or hair messed with by the one they love? None. And he won't be the first. You can always do the simplest things too: helping Charlie around the hotel, giving angel advice (even if he doesn’t use it), or running around with Nifty trying to help her catch bugs strikes a nerve in the stag he can't ignore. Seeing you tend to others makes him incredibly hot-blooded. It gives him more motive and excuses to breed you later on.
Dancing. He loves to trot around his room late at night with you. Soft jazz or swing music playing from him keeps a smile on your face as he leads you through various steps, effortlessly twirling you around the room and addicted to hearing you giggle softly anytime he sweeps you off your feet. He was a phenomenal dancer while alive, and that fact hasn’t changed in death. You will either have to learn from him or already be light on your feet when Alastor decides to ask you for a dance.
Alastor doesn’t mind having a chaotic partner but values a higher level of ‘obedience’ from them. If you aren’t the type to make a deal with the stag and he can’t convince you to do so, he’ll settle for an almost toxic form of companionship. What he says goes, and if you put up a fight, he’s not above reinforcing his command. Physically or emotionally. No one has ever called the Radio Demon fair, and they’ll never have a chance to. He does enjoy your stubborn fits occasionally, though….they make it so much more fun for him when he has to break you into submission again.
Overprotectiveness. He’s got a bad habit of practically stalking you whenever you’re away from him, but you have quite a temper when he’s put in a vulnerable position. This doesn’t happen often, though. For instance, his brawl with Adam enraged you to want to skin the angel alive. Luckily, Nifty and Lucifer got to know him before you did. Alastor adores it when you hiss at sinners who stare at him a little too long and can’t help but smile wider when you flash him an innocent look right after. You’re smaller and much more prone to be hurt, but you’ll still claw someone’s eyes out for him…yeah he’s never going to let you go.
Alastor isn’t very touchy but delights in invading others' personal space, so having an overly clingy partner would annoy him. You learn he appreciates acts of service more than anything else and is pleased to see what you do for him—keeping his room and Radio Tower tidy even if they’re usually clean and straightening out his bow tie if it’s crooked, bringing him raw meat after a long day of running errands, or even slipping into his room at night to sleep even if he’s wide awake himself just because you ‘miss him.’ It's all so trivial, small things you get used to doing, but meaningful to him nonetheless. He returns the favor in the best ways he can think of. Praise, gifts, making you cum until you can't think straight… You're such a sweetheart, and he can't help showing you bits of gratitude.
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Lucifer
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A sucker for the cliche type of love. Running into you while on a stroll, seeing how clumsy you can be right off the bat, and feeling obligated to help poor little you make Lucifer giddy. You don’t mainly get why he’s so infatuated with you at first sight, but having the attention of Hell's King is flattering. Your friendliness is what pulls the devil in like a magnet at first. He wonders how you ended up in Hell even though you’re lovely and genuine. He finds kinship with those out of place because he fell from heaven for the same reason. In his opinion, you stand out amongst other sinners by being less of one.
Confidence. Whatever vanity you have, Lucifer drowns in it. Your looks, talents, and impression on others…if it’s all done with a sense of pride, he can’t get enough of it. His drug is seeing the smug look on your face when you make him beg for attention. When you want something from him and know you’ll get it if you ask, that glint in your eye sends the devil spiraling to his knees. You don’t have to be obnoxious about it either; quiet as a mouse hanging onto his arm as he walks about, he’ll, with a slight smirk of delight on your face when people stare at you, stroke his ego more than anything else could. You’re his prize, and he’s glad you’re proud.
Curiosity. You are asking him questions, getting him to talk, or even rambling about what’s on your mind, which comforts Lucifer. It reminds him of his time in heaven, being able to express his thoughts to those who’d listen, and you tend to do the same, which excites the fallen angel. He enjoys explaining things to you, deconstructing complex concepts to see your bright eyes light up with wonder, and the oh-so-sweet smile you give him during long, in-depth conversations eases his heart. The pure excitement on your face when he shows or explains something new to you is contagious. You’re too cut to be left clueless.
Touchiness. Lucifer is very prone to clingy behavior and sees nothing wrong with that. He likes your attention on him. Physical touch is his favored love language, and sharing it with you comes naturally. You often sit in his lap, play with his hair, pet his wings, and cuddle. He can’t get enough of it. He shudders when you’re all over him, pining for a kiss he can’t resist giving to you and whining for another right after he gives in. His hands never wholly leave you, and yours always find a way to bring him in close again.
Creativity. He’s drawn in by those who have an eye for the arts. It doesn’t matter what your interest maybe if it’s a form of expression for you; Lucifer tends to admire it. He’ll go as far as researching facts about the subject/hobbies to impress you with his knowledge and actively participate in the activity. You don’t mind him joining in, happily spending time with him more often, and appreciative that he puts so much effort into learning about something you love to do.
Reliance. Not in the sense that you’re utterly helpless without him but more so that he likes to be needed even for the most minor things. Being unable to help or fulfill another’s wishes irks Lucifer. He embodies pride, and feeling useless damages him a lot more than other things. He’s very attentive and soft-spoken even when agitated with you, and he genuinely does his best to do anything you ask of him. Once you become his, the world (alive or dead) is yours for the taking. He hates it when you brush him off to do something on your own, so you’re bound to let him tag along with whatever you do to keep him busy. He doesn't intrude if it's too severe of a boundary for you, but he can't help but want to take care of you with the utmost diligence.
Brattiness/Sassiness. Lucifer can't understand why he's attracted to a sharp tongue and an even colder attitude (which only occurs when you're upset with him), but he loves every second of it. Sometimes hell does or says things on purpose to piss you off and get your focus back on him. Other times, if you're already in a sour mood, he’ll suggest you take that anger out on him. He's noticed a pattern of you using stress as an excuse for him to fuck your brains out, and he's not mad about it. If making you break down into tears underneath, thanking him for fucking the bitchiness right of you after the edge of another high slowly wears off helps you in any way….Lucifer won't hesitate to participate. He wants to see you happy, but he loves the minor spats of aggression you have, like every other sinner in his domain. Though, you don't get very cutthroat as much as the majority does.
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New filler posts because sometimes I have random ideas and need a break from writing a series. ❤️
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hellodropbear · 9 hours
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like she used to (IV)
alexia putellas x sister chapter I, II, III
sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)
~~~~~~
Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.
But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.
Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.
So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.
"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"
All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.
I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.
I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.
But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.
I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.
And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.
Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.
But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.
And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.
Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.
So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.
They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.
Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.
'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'
'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'
I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.
Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.
There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.
I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.
I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.
Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.
But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.
But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.
The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.
It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.
I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.
It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.
Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.
So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.
I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.
Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.
There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.
Everything I once was is gone.
Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.
And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.
I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.
And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.
~~~~~~
I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.
"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"
I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.
She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.
"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.
They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.
Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.
"You are not ok, Elena."
Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.
I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.
"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"
I nod and she continues.
"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"
I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.
I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.
I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.
But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.
I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?
We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.
Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.
It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.
Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.
Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.
"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."
She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.
"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."
I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.
"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.
The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.
Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.
But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.
Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.
She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.
She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.
When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.
"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."
She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.
"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."
I smile. I have never heard this story before.
"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."
Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.
"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."
She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.
Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.
But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.
The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.
The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.
"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."
I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.
But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.
Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.
Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.
"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.
"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."
I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.
"I don't know what to do."
Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.
But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.
She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.
She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.
I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.
But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.
I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.
Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.
Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.
But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.
There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.
But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.
The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.
Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.
It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.
It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.
"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"
It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.
No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.
I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.
I look up, offended.
"What?"
She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.
"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."
"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."
She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.
But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.
It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.
I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.
"I am so confused."
~~~~~~
Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.
But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.
It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.
"Is Mapi still awake?"
She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.
I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.
"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"
I love Aitana, I always have.
"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."
Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.
Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.
"You have been crying."
It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.
I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.
She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.
"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."
I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.
"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."
I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.
"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."
I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.
"I know she didn't go to any."
Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.
"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."
I frown at her words.
"Lucky?"
It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.
"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."
Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.
"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."
There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.
My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.
"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."
Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.
"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"
Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.
It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.
"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."
"Why are you two doing all this for me?"
Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.
The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.
"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"
There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.
"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."
She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.
Come to think of it, they probably have.
"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."
"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."
I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.
How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.
Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.
I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.
A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.
"Thank you."
~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed :)
this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!
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