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#like first of all you were in the wrong in the fight period
volpe-kitsune-red · 3 days
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May i request a lynx X an already partially conditioned reader (gender neutral preferably)?
Of course! I am kind of excited, this is the first request I get to write. :D Hope you'll like it!
An obedient pet
Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x gn!reader
TW. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, threats.
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You wouldn't describe yourself as a pushover, you knew how to stand your ground when it came to anyone, be it a friend or a professor. But there was something in her voice, in the way she imposed herself that enchanted you, or more accurately, conditioned your mind into bending down at her will, allowing her to guide your thoughts as she pleased.
It started with you losing touch with any friend you would hang out with the most often. Lynx would remind you that you had already made plans with her whenever you tried to organize a night out with them. "What do you mean you don't remember us talking about going to the cinema today? You were the one that proposed it! Have you been getting enough sleep, love? You keep forgetting our dates. Or is it because you don't care enough to spend time with me to remember?" Of course you cared! Your friends kept pointing out how this kept happening almost every time. But she obviously would never lie to you about stuff like this, you just had a hard time remembering your plans.
You also couldn't remember when she started referring to your hangouts as 'dates', you questioned her about it but kept getting evasive answers until you gave up. "Hmmm? Isn't that what they're called?" "Best friends date all the time!." "Date, going out together, honeymoon, they're all the same thing!"
It became obvious that something was wrong when people stopped inviting you out with them and even went out of their way to avoid you at school. Well, not everyone stopped, Lynx and her close friends were still there for you. You would always be encouraged to meet them in the corridors after every period and sit with them in the dining hall.
It was a very drastic change, it's not like you were forced to follow them everywhere, but you had no one else to go to. You suspected that someone must have spread rumors about you or there was something wrong with you that inevitably pushed everyone away. You felt grateful to Lynx for always sticking by your side, making you feel welcome in your friend group, but you also wanted to get your social life back in your control.
The problem was that she wouldn't let you. It felt like there was an invisible string tying you to her if you strove too far away to connect with anyone else. It was impossible to talk to new people at parties when she was always there to pull you away. "Come on! We are about to start a game of beer pong, you have to at least come to watch me win!" You were starting to get sick of it. It...it was like she was doing it on purpose! You loved being with her of course, she was your best friend, but you should also be allowed to have friendships outside of her and her group! Just as planned, nothing you said or did helped the situation.
"Are you saying we are not good enough company for you? Must I remind you how your old friends abandoned you?" "Do you want to risk the heartbreak of being rejected again?" "..." "Exactly, I didn't think so."
Every fight left you more hopeless than the previous. Lynx would comfort you afterward, sweet words leaving her lips like honey, but in reality, it was closer to venom. "You don't need to risk getting hurt again, all you need is here." "I'm here for you and always will be. You're mine." "Huh, what was that.?" "Nothing, sweety <3"
Eventually, you found yourself always clinging to her. Wherever she was, you were there with her. You became like a puppy, believing whatever your owner told you, never suspecting any ill from them. She was always so nice to you, after all, always locking arms with you whenever she was close, never letting you leave her sight. She would buy you gifts, praise you, and pet you whenever you behaved the way she wanted you to.
You were never left alone, you were always shown affection and support. Life was good, why would you ever desire anything different?
"I love you, my dear. See how everything is better when you're with me? Wouldn't you love for it to last longer, perhaps forever?"
From that moment forward, any hope for your life to go back to normality becomes useless and then, lost.
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navree · 1 month
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Let's be honest, and I say this with full offense, Lucerys Velaryon is the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Dance of the Dragons. He is meant to be a sacrificial lamb to kick off the entire war proper. If we had gotten a full season of development with him like we did with the younger cast in Game of Thrones, I guarantee more people would've felt something. The only reason I personally feel bad is from a baseline level of empathy, because he was a child who was placed in an unwinnable situation due to his mom being completely irresponsible with him and his brothers.
However…
The comparison between Lucerys and Aemond is no contest. Love him or hate him, Aemond has an actual personality and goals when we first meet him. There's enough dimension in Aemond as a child to showcase the potential for sympathy between him and Jace at the funeral, a scene they didn't need to put in, but they did, which emphasizes his own innocence. Even before he breaks bad fully in S1E10, he's still far more compelling to watch due to the number of scenes allocated to him and his dynamic with other people.
This is where you and I are going to disagree just a bit, because Lucerys does do something in S1E07 and S1E08. He gouges out the eye of a family member and petulantly whines that he “didn’t do anything!” when confronted with the possibility of getting in trouble for it, then years later has the nerve and complete lack of sense to giggle at the person he permanently maimed only hours after his legitimacy was publicly called into question (again) and resulted in a murder. The narrative (perhaps unintentionally) glosses over these moments in favor of portraying him as good, whereas if you read between the lines, you can see that as being an oversimplification. The problem is that because S1 was truncated, secondary characters like Lucerys don’t receive screentime dedicated to portraying anything other than a single personality trait. Unfortunately, because of his role in the text and the way it was adapted for television, there was never a chance that Lucerys would be interesting.
I don't even have anything to add, this is just objectively correct.
#personal#answered#anonymous#and yeah lucerys refusing to take any responsibility or even show a hint of remorse for what he did is so galling to me#i could never care about him after that#like first of all you were in the wrong in the fight period#aemond did nothing wrong he claimed a free dragon who let him bond with her#i get why rhaena and baela were acting irrationally upset their mother died and they're young#grief makes you act weird#jace and luke had absolutely no reason to act the way they did#like it's not your fight and also again aemond literally did nothing wrong#but because he made a nasty comment after already being yelled at for doing nothing wrong y'all decide to gang up on him#with your cousins#and then this little idiot decides to take a whole knife to someone's face and refuses to ever feel bad#luke could have KILLED aemond#aemond could have DIED#not just from the immediate wound but also any issues that arose during a really long and arduous healing process#it's why fics with luke where he feels bad or contrite don't work for me#because he literally doesn't???#he doesn't care at all#he doesn't care he almost killed a person for no reason and left them with lifelong issues as a result of his fuck up#out here kicking his feet and giggling over maiming another human being#again vhagar eating him was too easy#he should have gotten his eye poked out first anyway#literally only feel kinda bad for rhaenyra cuz i'm neutral leaning positive towards rhaenyra and losing a child hurts#luke himself can rot i feel nothing
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augustinewrites · 3 months
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cw: it’s just angst
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“i’m not mad.”
satoru closes and locks the front door, trailing after you into the kitchen, apprehension rising in the space kept between you. “really? because you seem kind of mad…”
“it’s fine, gojo.” you snap. “i’m fine.”
he watches you, quiet as the two of you go about your evening routine. leftovers from meals brought to the infirmary stowed away. week-old laundry tossed into the basket. you don’t say a word to him, emotions you don’t know how to make sense of still simmering.
“i’m sorry,” he says plainly as you’re both putting away the dishes. 
you wipe your hands on the tea towel, glancing over at him. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
he shifts, unsure. “no…”
“of course you don’t,” you sigh. 
“then tell me,” he insists, exasperated. “i don’t want to fight.” 
“i don’t want to either,” you snap. “but you’re doing it again.” 
“doing what?”
“you just spent a week in the infirmary. you were hurt.”
“c’mon,” he laughs weakly. “there was no real chance of me dying.” 
“that’s not the—” you voice rises, then immediately quiets when you realize the kids are asleep. “that’s not the point. you’re losing yourself in it again. soon you’re going to drift away from us— from me,” you tell him, bleeding into the pain you’ve felt the last few days. “like you did when we were in school.”
because for as long as you’d known gojo, his drive was to constantly do more. be more. the period of time after the failure that was the star plasma vessel mission was the first time you’d witnessed it. gojo satoru doesn’t do anything halfway. he won’t permit himself to.
that’s what really scares you. he doesn’t know when to stop.
“i’m sorry that i worried you,” he apologizes, sincerity etched into his expression. you know him, know that he’s scared to say the wrong thing, that he’ll mess this up or somehow make it worse. “i had to. the higher ups—”
“satoru,” you interrupt, walls crumbling right in front of him. “i’ve always liked that you care about the jujutsu world. i just don’t want you to only care about it. not with where we are in our lives right now.”
“i don’t—”
“you do! you always have, and i get it. i know the world needs you…but things are getting worse, and we need to start thinking about the future—”
“everything i’m doing is for the future. for the future generation of sorcerers all over the world—”
“i don’t care about the world! i just care about you, and that’s the problem. one person always cares more in a relationship and that’s always been me.” 
“that’s not true,” he insists, a desperate edge in his voice. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve never needed is you—”
“i need you too! maybe that sounds selfish or needy, but i don’t want there to be a day where i have to tell the kids that you’re not coming home. if you can’t understand that—”
he doesn’t think you realize you’re crying, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill over. satoru reaches for you out of instinct, your argument the furthest thing from both your minds at this moment. you let him pull you into his arms, let him hold you. 
but you’re exhausted. 
this is fight you’ve been having since the moment you’d met him, and you don’t think he’ll understand the impact of it until you walk away.
“if you don’t understand that,” you continue softly, “then maybe we need to take a break.”
_____
outside the apartment door, nanami and shoko sit side by side, sharing a bottle of "welcome home" wine.
"guess they forgot we were coming over," the doctor mutters, pressing her ear against the door to see if jujutsu tech's favourite couple was still fighting. “it’s way too quiet in there. you think she killed him?”
nanami sighs, loosening his tie. “it’s quite possible.” 
“i’ll be the alibi and you’ll get rid of the body?”
“of course.”
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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months
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Cramps
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Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy. 
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 
 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 
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You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 
Your period had come.  
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 
“Thank you. You’re the best.” 
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 
“Oh shut up, meanie.” 
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍” 
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 
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Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 
“I think I can make that happen.” 
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About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 
“Frankie, holy fuck.” 
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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Taglist:
@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring
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changbinlov3r · 1 month
Text
We can't be friends | H.H.
Pairing: Hyunjin x reader
Genre: ANGST, smut
Summary: you have been in love with your best friend for a long time. On a night where you were supposed to comfort him after a break up, things heat up and he finally looks at you the way you wanted.
Words count: 2,957
THIS WORK IS FOR +18 AUDIENCES ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: biting, protected piv, hickeys, blowjob, hair pulling, cursing(I think that's all)
A/N: I wanted to write something to "we can't be friends" by ariana grande, I was thinking so hard about what to write and this idea came to me so suddenly and I knew I had to write it.
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Hwang Hyunjin was everything you ever dreamt about. You didn’t realize that right when you met him in your first year of college, to you he was just a friend until he wasn’t anymore. You started noticing every little thing about him, how his eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, the face he makes when he eats something good, what are his favorite drinks and snacks. Suddenly everything about Hyunjin sounded so interesting that you didn’t even realize you were in love. You didn’t realize how happy you got every time he sent you a message, how touched you felt when he went to pick you up at work because it was raining and you forgot your umbrella, how calm you felt when you were with him, watching a movie and chilling.
The moment you realized you were in love, you knew you couldn’t be best friends anymore but you liked to pretend. Hyunjin never even looked at you twice so your mind never went to dark places, wondering what it would be like to tell him how you feel but even though that was the case, he didn't make it easy for you to stop liking him.
He would bring you snacks and medicine when you were on your period, when you felt down about anything he would be there to cheer you up and you could tell him just about anything, you knew he wouldn’t judge you — well, almost anything. Could he ever understand you about this, though? How could you fall in love with your best friend?
When he got his first girlfriend it was a shock to you, the pain in your chest felt like it would burn you whole, but you kept fighting with your heart, telling yourself that it wouldn’t do you any good for him to know about your feelings. His relationship didn’t last long but it also wasn’t the last you heard about a relationship of his and you thought you were okay with it. That is, until he met his last girlfriend. Hyunjin was head over heels for her and that killed you time and time again. Your heart broke more and more every time he talked about her, every time you slept over and heard him calling her late at night, telling her how much he loved her. A month went by, then three months, then a year.
Of course you didn’t want them to break up because you knew he would suffer and that was the last thing you wanted, even if in that case you would be the one hurting. You tried to date other people, but you always felt it was wrong because deep inside you didn’t want to get over him, not when you were still hopeful that one day he would look at you.
It was late at night when Hyunjin called you, it was clear in his voice that something was not right.
“Can you come over?” He asks, voice hoarse and tired.
“Give me ten minutes”, you tell him, jumping out of bed. You were already in your pjs, ready to sleep and no one other than Hyunjin could make you go out this time of the night.
You don't even change your shirt, putting on sweatpants and brushing your hair quickly before grabbing your keys and your coat, walking to the door. The chill air of the night blows your hair, messing everything up and making your face grow cold. Winter has been killing you for a while now, you have been avoiding coming to the cold outside since you started to work from home.
You get into your car, turning on the heater, putting on some light music so you can stay calm and not freak out about what happened to your best friend.
You don’t even knock when you get to his apartment, pressing the password to the door lock and entering the house. A strong smell of liquor comes straight to your nose, stopping you in your tracks. There are so many soju bottles on the floor that you can’t even count and you hear the sound of the shower, so you can only conclude that Hyunjin is taking a bath.
Sighing and taking your coat, you throw it on the table, going to the kitchen to find a plastic bag and starting to collect the trash around the living room. What the hell happened? Hyunjin is usually pretty neat, it’s rare to see his house this messy.
You hear the sound coming from the bathroom disappear while you wash the dishes, drying your hands on a towel and leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for Hyunjin to show up.
He looks awful, clean but horrible. He has eye bags under his eyes and seems tired like he hasn't slept in days.
“What happened?” You ask him, walking to him to take a closer look.
Hyunjin pouts, looking at you. You swear he’s almost crying.
“Jisoo broke up with me”, he says, running his hand through his hair.
“She did what?” You scowl, eyes widening and he sighs. “What happened? This came out of nowhere”
“I don’t know, she’s been acting weird lately and she didn’t want me to pick her up at work anymore so I asked about it and she felt offended that I was being suspicious of her, but I was not”, he whines, “I was just asking if there was something wrong”
“When did it happen? Are you drunk right now?” You recall the amount of empty bottles of alcohol you found when you arrived.
“She ended it yesterday, I thought she was gonna come around”, he cries out, “but she even blocked me on social media”
Hyunjin turns around, walking to the sofa and sitting, supporting his elbows on his thighs while he covers his face.
“I'm not drunk, I ran out of booze a few hours ago and just couldn't get myself to go buy more”, he sighs, “I have no energy”
You feel that pain in your chest, you never wanted to see him suffering like this.
“Look, you have today to cry and tomorrow you're gonna forget about her, okay?”, you groan, the last thing you want is to comfort the guy you like because someone else broke his heart. “You have me, you’re gonna be fine” You walk to him, sitting by his side and patting his back. Hyunjin sighs, nodding begrudgingly.
“Thank you for coming”, he says, leaning down and putting his head on your shoulder. “I know it's late”
“Don’t worry about it”, you assure him, “I'm always here for you”
Hyunjin nods, looking up at you before you glance down at him, his dark eyes watching you like he can see right through you, all your emotions. Suddenly the atmosphere becomes strange, you both fall into silence and you feel something deep inside you, something you don't think you have ever felt before as he glances to your mouth and then your lips are on his.
For a few seconds you can't fully understand what's happening, are you two really kissing? And is he reciprocating? Hyunjin’s lips are just like you thought it would be, soft and sweet. Are you a horrible person for doing this when he just broke up with his girlfriend? His hands move to cup your face, deepening the kiss but yours go straight to his chest, pushing him away.
“We shouldn't do this”, you shake your head, trying to get back to your senses. “This isn't right”
Hyunjin scowls.
“It's fine, I want it”, he tries kissing you again but you stop him again.
“You were drinking earlier, you are not thinking straight”, you try keeping your cool.
“I'm sober now”, he insists, “please, y/n”, he pleads, making your heart melt.
It's not like you don't want to have him, you really do.
“You won't regret it later?” You ask, biting on your bottom lip and when he shakes his head, you turn off the side of your brain that makes good decisions, kissing him again.
You grab his face, deepening the kiss, delighting yourself on his plump lips. His long hair falls around your fingers, tickling your skin and the brush of his tongue on yours makes you sigh. Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it lightly while his hands slide down to your hips, pressing his fingers with such force you think it might cause a bruise.
He kisses you again, hungrily, leaning over and making you fall back on the sofa as he hovers over your body. You feel tiny beneath him, like he holds all the power in the world and you’re just there ready to make all his wishes come true.
As he trails kisses down your neck, you sigh and slide your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it somewhere in the room. You kiss him again, eagerly, not capable of staying away for too long as his hands slide down your shirt grabbing at your breasts, making you let out a moan. Your hands go down his abs, sliding inside his pants, pressing your fingers around his hard cock. You start massaging it up and down and Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it slightly just enough for you to feel a slight pain.
He slips his hand down your bra, kneading at your breasts and pinching on your nipples.
“Fuck”, you murmur, not able to hold up anymore as you pull your on shirt off to give him the view of your chest that's bare in a few seconds since you work fast to undo your bra.
He watches you for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty. You feel your cheeks grow hot, trying to cover yourself but he blocks your movements, holding your arms above your head. Hyunjin kisses your neck, leaving a trail of bites that are going to cause you to use turtlenecks for a while but you are not complaining, he trails down your collarbone till your breasts so he can suck on your nipples, rubbing his hard cock against your tight while he enjoys his time at your chest.
You can't hold yourself back anymore, so you put your hands on his chest, pushing him away enough for him to sit down. You throw one leg over him, sitting on his lap, brushing your core against his hard cock, moaning to the delicious pressure. You kiss him again, rubbing yourself against him a few times, his hands go straight to your hip forcing you down.
You pull away when you can't breathe anymore, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, giving him a bite right on top of his collarbone, not stopping until he hisses.
“You're going to leave a mark”, he groans, opening his eyes that were shut in pleasure, just to look at you, seeing the smirk you have on your lips.
“That's the point”, you say, finally detaching your lips from his skin, enjoying the view of it turning purple.
You get down from his lap, getting on your knees in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down to find his painfully hard cock, glistening with precum. You grab the base of his cock, pumping it a few times before you get close enough to lick the head, circling it with your tongue, listening to him moan while he grabs the sofa, knuckles turning with the strength he's using.
You hold one of his hands with yours bringing it to your head and letting it rest on your hair, as you look at him sharply, sucking up and down on his cock even more eagerly.
“Fuck”, he grabs a handful of your hair, pressing your head further down his cock, the head reaching the back of your throat, making tears escape your eyes. “You look so pretty gagging around me”, he murmurs, throwing his head back, groaning to the intense feeling of the orgasm approaching.
You feel his grip tighten on your hair and he cums a few seconds later, letting go of your hair and breathing heavily, trying to recompose himself. You stare at him from the floor, not sure if he's going to want to keep going, but he soon looks back at you stretching himself to the side of the sofa till he reaches the drawer in the rack, pulling a condom out of there.
“Do you want to-”, he begins to say.
“Yes”, you nod frantically not even letting him finish.
“Good”, he smiles, tearing the package and putting on the condom, his cock hardening again. “It's pretty difficult not to get hard again seeing you fucked out like that for me”, he teases. Your hair is disheveled, your lips are swollen and there are tears marks down your cheeks.
You smile sheepishly watching as Hyunjin offers you his hand, pulling you down to sit back on his lap. You grab his cock, teasing your entrance lightly, closing your eyes to the feeling. When you sink down you swear you can see stars, his cock is just perfect, the stretch feels so good you can't even begin to describe it. He's reaching places you didn't even know you wanted to be reached, the way he grabs your hips, pushing you down on him while he makes you grind makes the sensation a thousand times better. You can already barely breath when he kisses you again, bringing a hand to your hair and pulling it while he bites on your lips, you can feel him thrusting into you, faltering movements showing that he's almost reaching his second orgasm. He trails kisses down your neck, kissing the hill between your breasts and licking on your right nipple while he curses under his breath.
“I'm gonna cum”, he announces, detaching his mouth from your chest, glancing at you just to see you nod, murmuring ‘me too, I'm almost there’ over and over until a loud moan escapes your lips. Your legs tremble and you hug Hyunjin looking for some kind of support, he wraps his arms around you, fucking into you while he cums too.
You don't have any strength left to get up when you come down from your high, resting your head on his shoulder. Hyunjin gently picks you up, holding your legs around his hips while he carries you to his room, laying you down on his bed. He murmurs something but you're too groggy to understand him, falling into a deep slumber as soon as you feel his lips meeting your forehead.
It's already afternoon when you wake up, there's no one by your side though and you feel the pain of regret beginning to find its way to your chest. You could ignore it, you really could, if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s voice coming from outside the room. You dress up fast, walking to the door to hear what he's talking about and then you realize he's not alone.
“Do you have any idea of how much you hurt me?” You hear his voice.
“I'm sorry”, you hear Jisoo’s voice, “I know I went overboard this time but I wasn't thinking clearly”
You feel your stomach sinking in, your heart starts beating on your ears but you make a huge effort to keep listening to them.
“What do you want me to do about it now?” He asks, sighing.
“Let's get back together”, she suggests, “we can pretend we never even broke up in the first place”
You want to believe with all you have in you that he's gonna deny her, that he's going to think about you and tell her he's not interested anymore.
“Fine”, he says, “but I'll need some time to think”
You wish you could say you're surprised with his answer but you're not, it's not even sad, it's just pathetic. You really thought that he would really look at you this time, didn't you? That he would fall in love with you after one night together? That's embarrassing to say the least.
You scoff to yourself, walking around the room and collecting your things, you want to get the hell out of there and disappear from this world.
You hear the front door being closed and you know Hyunjin is gonna show up at any time now.
You're already ready to go when he opens the door, stopping on his tracks to look at you.
“I didn't know you were awake”, he says, sheepishly.
“I am”, you say walking past him in the direction of the front door.
“Y/N, about yesterday-”, he starts saying but is interrupted by you spinning around to look at him, trying to contain the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes.
“You're a fucking asshole”, you tell him, making him scowl.
“I- look, you don't understand”, he tries but you laugh, scoffing at him.
“What don't I understand? That you fucked me one night and went back to your girlfriend the next morning?”
“I wasn't on my right mind yesterday”
“Fuck you”, you feel your face hot with anger, “you said you wouldn't regret it”, you cry out as you run your hands through your hair, “I guess that's on me for really believing you”
“Let's not let this ruin our friendship okay? We can take some time apart to clear our heads but we are still best friends, y/n”
“We can't be friends”, you inform him, “I have known that for a long time now but I liked to pretend”, you sigh, waiting for him to say something, anything that could make you stay, but Hyunjin just stares at you in shock and watches as you leave him.
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katkit14 · 6 months
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What's its like being a female in all the Dorms
So I was making characters from my last idea and then it came to me. Headcanons for being the only female in each dorm!
Prompt : So rundown, you are the only female student in the whole school. You were an a talented young woman who was reached out to, as a great opportunity for NRC to open their doors to both females and males alike. (in reality Crowley just thinks girls on campus would be less rowdy then all boys. Means less work for him. Or maybe it's cause RSA started to, and Crowley is offended. Either way you are here now!)
Warnings : Reader isn't yuu/Mc. Reader is born female. mentions of sexism and harrsement. A little cussing to. Mentions of Periods and Bras.
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Heartslabyul
Riddle would be just as hard on you as the other freshmen. He sees you no differently. Male, female? Doesn't matter, you are still a student. You must obey all the rules to a Tea (get it?). If you don't then it's off with your head just like everyone else. Which if your sorted into this dorm there is good chance you are okay with that. I could see you being more a stickler for rules but even if your not at least riddle is fair.
If you're more chaotic and less strict then Riddle would treat you like Ace. Don't think you are getting away with things just because you act all innocent. He will make you write a 100-page essay on what you did wrong and why you won't do it again. That's if it's after his overblot. If not then it's "OFF WITH YOUR HEADU".
Though if you were forced into a bedroom with boys, Riddle might raise a fuss saying it's improper and get you your own bedroom. He will make the mistake of going through Crowley though.
Trey wouldn't act any different either. He'd also just see you as another freshmen. Carter though, he would avoid you. Like oh no, he has sisters. He "knows" what girls are like. He will warm up to you though.
Ace will flirt so much with you it's unreal. Cheesy pick up lines, smooth one liners, etc. He'll become annoying with it. Like get a spray bottle kind of annoying. Deuce is the opposite. He is super respectful and always a gentleman to you. He may become less stern if you befriend him but he'll always be a bit soft around you. If you ask, he'll beat ace up.
Now the rest or heartslabyul really doesn't react to you, you're kinda just another student. No one looks out for you but no one in the dorm harrases you. Now when it comes to female stuff, everyone in this dorm gets real awkward about it. On your period and are Bleeding through your WHITE dorm uniform? Everyone swet drops but only a few people speak up. If you do end up having to share a dorm room (even with riddle throwing a fit) the other boys in the room would be respectful and change in a bathroom instead of the room. They also would allow you access to the bathroom first ( unless it's ace. Then he pushes you out the way saying "Ladies first my ass" ).
Anyone who harrases you will face Riddles wrath though. Oh and the one brain cell duo. Riddle will be more proper by lecturing them but if the One brain cell duo gets ahold of them, then lights out.
Savanaclaw
Leona let's you off easier then the other students. Mostly cause he is mildly intimidated by you. He knows you aren't a beastman, but it's still ingrained into him to respect females. So if you just stand up to him and be like "yeah no" he won't really fight you. If you are on the softer side, he'd slowly but surely start to have a soft spot for you. He'd still respect you, even if you weren't a fighter. He'd just be more of an asshole if you didn't scare him as much.
If you were forced to share a room, it wouldn't be long before you had your own room since there are a lot of drop outs. Leona would put in the hardwork of making ruggie clear you out a room to yourself.
Ruggie's mostly the same way, he mostly respects you and your stuff. He won't take your stuff either just because of that slight fear. If you befriend him, he'll be more likely to share his food with you then with a guy.
Jack mostly treats you as an equal. No more, no less. Though he can be kinda awkward at first, once you befriend him he's a lot more chill.
Now the rest of Savanaclaw is spilt into two. Seeing you are the mom of Savanaclaw or being sexiest against you. If you are a fighter then you can easily put the sexiest ones in their place. If not, Jack can do it for you. Mostly the ones who see you as mom, would go to war for you. Like you are highly respected. Now if you accept the title then it's a whole lot of caring for dumbass's after fights, and making sure everyone hydrates after work outs. If you don't accept it, it doesn't matter cause they aren't dropping it. But you can kick their ass if they get to annoying.
During sports you have a whole line of bestmen and humans alike cheering for you! Like personal cheerleaders. And during school hours you have a bunch of guys coming through checking up on you, seeing if you are okay. They gotta take care of their dorm mom.
If you get your period, the whole dorm knows. Fun fact, period blood doesn't smell like fresh blood so they know it's your period to. Expect to find a basket of chocolate at your door, with a note saying " please accept this, in return don't kill us."
Octavinelle
Azul has a different opinion depending on what you are like.
I imagine if you got sorted into this dorm then you are more like a shady capitalist. If that's the case then he constantly feels threatened by you and has the Twins keep an eye on you.
If you are more Naive or more sweet then he is a lot less afraid and he puts you to work at the Lounge. Like as a hostess or a waitress, in order to lure more costumers.
If you were forced to share a room with boys he'd arrange another room for you...for a price. Man has no chill.
Jade doesn't really treat you any differently. More or less isn't fazed. He will still beat you up if he has to, and it won't make him go softer on you.
Floyd also doesn't care. He treats you the same as well. Honesty I could see him forgetting you are a girl. If you are a bit curvier he will squish you more. If you are the skinny side he likes to shake you. He swears you raddle. He will base his nickname off your personality, rather then your gender.
As far as the other students? Well everyone tries to budy up with you just purely based on business. It's an opportunity to get you to do stuff for them. If you're at negotiation then you'd be sitting pretty on favors, thaumbucks, and stuff.
Now if you choose not take Azul up on his deal and you are forced to share a room, they will be respectful and not change in front of you but other then that? You are on your own unless they owe you. Need pads/ tampons? Sams shop isn't to far away and you have working legs. It can be kinda hard to make friends in this dorm, with everyone being so shady and always wanting something from you. There really isn't anyone to help if you get harrassed either (unless you befriend the twins, then big scary dog previlige), though if you complain to Azul enough he will step in. You have to be pretty independent to be in this dorm.
Scarabia
Kalim and you are besties. It doesn't matter if agreed to it, he just thinks you are so cool! He treats you like his little sister...so basically like all the other students. He is always inviting to parties and he will take you out on magic carpet rides! He may come off strong but he just wants you to feel comfortable. He does put a lot of stress on jamil though with this...well even more stress.
I feel like if you had to share a room with boys and said you weren't comfortable with that then he would build a whole new just for you! Oh come on, it's the least you he could do to make you comfortable.
Jamil takes a lot longer to be cozy with you. He treats you with respect but doesn't really interact with you more then he has to which he has to a lot thanks to Kalim. Unless you befriend him somehow, then he slowly becomes more protective over you.
Kalim tries his best but doesn't understand female problems. Jamil on the other hand is the one to call if you have really bad cramps that wont go away or need help getting pads/tampons. Just take it easy on him, he's already got a lot to deal with.
The rest of the dorm is pretty nice to you. Most of them try to be helpful where they can, and it's really easy to befriend guys your age. Not a lot of harassment happens here but when it does Jamil will handle it unless you take care of it yourself. Even if he doesn't like you that much, he still doesn't believe in acting that way to girls just cause his little sister.
if you refused to let Kalim build you a room then some of the boys would move in with each other to let you have a room to yourself.
Pomefoire
Vil is even harder on you then he is on other students. He doesn't want you to get away with stuff and not put your best in just because you are female. He will push and push to do your best. From skin care regimens and diets, to work outs and class's on etiquette (depends on what you need according to him.) you would be his secret favorite but he would never tell anyone. Best believe though you will have your own room, and bathroom. He'll get you to chat with him. Tell him who you like, who bothers you. I can just see him judging whoever you like so hard. especially if it was another Dormleader like " Really? Couldn't you do a little better?"
Rook is a little more flirty to you, but not to much that anyone notices. I think flirty is just his personality. Anyways he is a real gentleman, still does as Vil says but gently. He also seems to get a bit protective over you, often getting people when they make you uncomfortable, even if you can handle it yourself.
He thought you were just a girly guy like him at first. Once he finds out your a girl, Epel thinks he has to look out for you. But makes a bunch of off hand comments that make Vil smack him. He is one of those "you can't hit a girl" kind of dudes.
As for the rest Pomefiore, they don't even notice you are a girl. Even if you very curvy. They just think it's drag or something. If your Skinner they just think your a normal student. Unless you tell anyone you are a girl they won't know. If you do tell them they don't care. I can't really see anyone in the dorm messing with you. If not from pure "I don't care enough" then it's the fear of Vil and Rook.
Vil refuses to let you share a dorm room, even if you are fine with it. Unlike Riddle he won't try to go through Crowley. He'll just do it. If there aren't any other rooms then you can stay with him. He if that does happen, he will be very respectful but you won't be able to escape his nagging.
I can see Vil kind of catering to your needs. Like he keeps tampons and pads in the dorms bathroom and giving you ways to get blood out of your clothes. He wants you to feel comfortable.
Ignihyde
Idia, talking to someone? Let alone a girl? Yeah no. He maybe talked to you once or twice because Ortho made him. He stays as far away from you as possible.
Ortho and you are friends. He is just so adorable how could you not? Even if you are shy, it's fine cause he's not. Once you are friends he constantly trying to get his brother and you to interact, but that works as well as trying to introduce water and oil.
Don't worry about sharing a room either cause if you have to, your dorm mates are never there. They refuse to interact with anyone. Hell, I can imagine a student making a wall divider just so no one doesn't have to talk.
It's safe to say no one is gonna harass you. They would feel scared being around you. I guarantee you that they have never talked to a real girl, and they don't plan to. That does mean you are on your own, about everything. It can also be hard to make friends but not impossible. Just hard. But hey you have the best wifi in the whole school! I imagine if you are in this dorm you are probably more antisocial yourself so you are probably fine with no one talking to you. But if you aren't, probably look for friends outside of your dorm.
I'm sorry this one is shorter, there isn't a lot to say on this dorm.
Diasomnia
Malleus is more then welcoming. Though he will keep his distance if you are scared of him. If you aren't then you will quickly become friends with him. He doesn't really see you differently then other students, but he does understand you may find some challenges that other students won't and he tries his best to accommodate to that.
If you share a dorm room, and you aren't comfortable he will get you another room to yourself. Very easily to. If you are fine with it or don't say anything then he won't know to so speak up. Feel free to complain to him. I don't know why but I see him being a softer dorm leader.
Lilia has to adopted you, sorry. Sebek and Silver both betray you, and point to you whenever Lilia asks who wants to try his cooking....if you survived feel free to punch them.
Speaking of Sebek and Silver, Sebek dislikes you. Or at least at first. He thinks your far to close to Malleus, but also you should worship him? Can't have your cake and eat it to. But after awhile he accepts you but barely.
Silver likes you just fine. I can see really anyone getting along with him. The only thing really wrong about him is sleepyness but he can't help that. So you two will probably become friends no matter your personality.
As far as the rest of dorm goes (is there other students? But nah really) most people leave you be. Not really talking to you or paying attention to you. I don't really see anyone fucking with you here, but if they do lilia will see to it if you don't handle it yourself. If Malleus finds out though, boy do they get the hell out of NRC. Malleus doesn't believe in sexism. Really none of the Diasomnia boys do but Malleus and Lilia have the power to do something about it.
Lilia and Silver is a lot more understanding of Female problems then Malleus and Sebek. Silver is a very understanding kind of guy, and Lilia's old has experience. I imagine fae also have periods but they are different. So lilia might not understand entirely but knows the basics. Malleus is clueless though he tries to understand. He will ask questions on everything if you allow him to, if not Lilia will explain. He just wants to know, so he can help. Sebek though just refuses to learn or care. He doesn't see you any different from anyone else really. So he treats you like he does all the other first year's (your poor eardrums). None other then Malleus ( if you've befriended him) are that protective of you. With most viewing you can take care of yourself just fine.
If you do end up sharing a room though, I feel like it'd probably be with Sebek. Who doesn't care whether you are Female or not. He won't change in front of you or try to peep at you. He will leave your stuff alone to. But sharing a room with him comes with it's own challenges.
He will still keep up his shrine to Malleus. He will hog the bathroom half the morning. He will be very loud in the morning and at night. Great seven forbid you stay up past 9pm.
I don't really see you sharing a room with other dorm members but if you do, then they mostly leave you alone. They won't change in front of you but that's it. Not really much to say there.
Bonus
If you leave Bras around your room in ignihyde, One of the boys will faint.
If you're in Pomefiore, you will be one Crewels favorite students.
In Heartslabyul, if you leave a little pad station in the bathroom, some of the first year boys will start using them as badaides.
The Savanaclaw boys use Hair ties and Srunchies as a weapon so if you have long hair, good luck.
If you are in Diasomonia, and rooming with Sebek. If you leave blood on the toilet seat, he will freak out asking in a very tsundere way if you are okay, once it's explained...Lilia will not let him live it down like ever.
If you are in Octavinille, don't ever leave a bra or undergarment in the open. Floyd will use it as a sling shot. (ace would to)
In Scarabia, Kalim forgets you are girl sometimes. Like" hey you want to go swimming with me? I had a pool put in yesterday! Everyone was getting way to hot!" "sorry I can't im on my period" "What?". Jamil faceplamed, cause Kalim knows what a period is, he just forgot you get them.
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DPXDC. Dead serious: Are we flirting or fighting right now?
Nightwing takes Robin to meet potential Young Justice League members with the sole purpose of trying to introduce him to peers. And everything goes wrong from the very first minute.
Damian literally latched on to Phantom and tried to fight him every free period despite Dick’s attempts to calm him down. And if at first Phantom looked confused and did not answer Damian, preferring to disappear from the battlefield, then a few days later he also began to attack his brother. And Nightwing literally went mad trying to stop them.
So, Dick spots Danny near Damian again and heads to break up a new fight, but stumbles, noticing that Phantom is kissing his brother instead of arguing with him. Dick: Wh- How did it come to this? Damian: Obviously, I just successfully got a boyfriend.
~~~Day after the incident. Batcave~~~ Jason: Yeah, ghosts use different kinds of fight moves to demonstrate intent. Of course Demon's Kid familiar with these traditions. I mean, he grew up near the Lazarus Pits, a very popular place for dates among the inhabitants of Infinite Realms, you know. It’d be weird if he didn’t notice rituals around him. What surprised you, Wing?
Dick: How could I know they were flirting not fighting?!
Jason: Come on, I talk to Dami like this all the time after I took a language course by the League of Assassins. It’s like dancing, all about energy. How can you not tell passion from rage? Stupid mother hen, you almost made the guy lose his date.
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romanoffsbish · 6 months
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You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide
Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader
Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440
Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)
Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding
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Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.
Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.
———
That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.
Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.
Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.
"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"
You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”
Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.
“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”
"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"
"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."
"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.
"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."
Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.
"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."
Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.
"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."
Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.
Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."
The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time. 
The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."
"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."
"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.
"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.
You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."
Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.
Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."
Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.
"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”
Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.
Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."
"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."
Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."
"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"
"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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The Lion King's Fangs
Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, protectiveness, getting into fights, soothing kisses, growling, confessions, threats
Word count: 2.4k
Flufftober Day 19: Keeping Someone Safe
A/N: This flufftober prompt really got me going, Leona is perfect for it.
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Being part of Leona’s Pride was full of positives. Maybe not many would think so because of his usually rude and holier then though attitude but it was all just surface level things. No many bothered to try to look underneath so of course they had the wrong idea of him. He was loud when he wanted to be, he could dominate room with just a glance and he held himself in very high regard due to his royal status. You hate to admit it but you were one of those people who thought he was just an asshole. That was way before you were placed in the same Dorm and got to know your Dorm Leader better, before the rumors started too.
Leona was used to rumors about him, he’d been used to them since he was little. They used to bother him a lot more back then, but now he couldn’t care less about the things people say about him. They could think what they want, in fact if they’re scared of him they’re more likely to leave him alone.
On the other hand there was you, who was never involved in much gossip. You would hear things about the Dorm Leaders just like everyone else, you knew which ones were more or less approachable, Leona was not on the approachable list so you stayed in your own lane. When you joined the Savanaclaw dorms you noticed a lot more people talking about you, well you and one other person: Leona Kingscholar.
The rumors didn’t bother you much at first, but they did allow you to see a whole other side of Leona that you hadn’t seen before. The more people talked the closer he stuck to you, it was both a blessing and a curse in your case.
Blessing because you got to see that he wasn’t actually all that scary to be around. He was a bit of a softie underneath all that rough exterior, but that part of him was very well hidden, mostly coming out when he’d ask you to keep watch while he took a nap. Leona talked in his sleep a lot, he talked about you too, his mumbling made your heart skip a beat more than once in a day.
“She’s walking out of the gardens again with that blush on her face. They must be-”
“Hey! Quiet down, you how much he hates the rumors. Kingscholar clearly doesn’t want anyone knowing about it if they have to sneak around.” Another student commented to the first, both trying not to look in your direction and failing.
“Not a very well kept secret.” The two may have thought you weren’t able to hear them but you heard every word they said. Some were quieter than the others but eventually every rumor made it’s way to you and Leona.
Worst part was that they weren’t true at all. There was nothing happening between the two of you except for friendship. You helped him out with exams sometimes but that was it. Or more accurately you helped him stay focused on studying for them. Leona’s room was quite a way from yours so he would always walk you back, often late at night, which didn’t make the gossip any better.
You tried not to let it get to you and go about your day as usual.
Classes were usually the calmest period for you, it was what came after that was the problem. Leona liked to wait for you along with Ruggie and Jack, and then walk back to the dorms. “Have a good time in class today?” Ruggie was the most talkative of the group, walking backwards, hands behind his head, not a care in the world.
“It was fine. I’m more worried about next week.”
“Ugh. Exams. Don’t remind me.” Leona yawned already feeling boredom setting in.
Jack was the furthest up front, only his ears showing he was listening. He was also the one who took studies seriously, other then you so he appreciated having the extra helping hand. “You’re the one who should be reminded the most.”
“Huh? What was that? Think I’m dumb? I don’t need anyone’s help to pass.” Leona shouted all too loud, all eyes on the four of you.
“Bet he wants a helping hand from her.” A guy commented to one of his buddies while the other made a crude pumping gesture. Both Ruggie and Jack scoffed at their behavior and looked at you. You tried not to pay them any mind, but it was getting increasingly more difficult the more vulgar their words became. Leona’s ears twitched uncomfortably at them.
Yes, you did help Leona study, but that was all that ever happened, studying. The fact that he would pat you on the head after or buy you lunch the next day were completely separate issues, even his flirting was never that serious, he enjoyed teasing you like a cat would a mouse. Clearly that wasn’t how everyone else saw it.
Leona looked down at you, at your red ears and the way you chewed on your bottom lip and gripped your bag, he knew you didn’t find any of it funny, and neither did he. Teasing was fine, but there are lines that should not be crossed with his Pride, this was one of them.
“Wanna say that again?” Leona stopped abruptly and turned to glare at the group.
“Leona, it’s fine, it doesn’t- let’s just leave.” You whispered to him as you grabbed the bottom of his uniform. This was gonna make more of a scene then it already was. With the kind of reputation Leona already had, that he got into fights, verbal and physical, he didn’t need to add anything to his record, and neither did you. “They’re just talking.”
“They’re being disrespectful. You, tough guy, come over and apologize!” No one insulted his friends, no matter what that was the one rule he always upheld.
The group shrugged among themselves and one of them approached, “Oh I think the little lady can speak for herself hm? We’re just saying what she’s thinking. Everyone here knows that the only reason she joined the dorm was cause of you. Isn’t that right?” He all but leered at you while he spoke. Everyone could tell this was about to get ugly so they stayed away as much as they could, not wanting to get involved in the conflict.
Not that you blamed them, if you weren’t Leona’s friend you’d stay away too.
You could hear him growling, clenching his teeth, his fists shaking with anger at the assumptions made. “Leona, leave him, come on man, he’s not worth the time.” Jack put his hand on Leona’s shoulder while Ruggie closed in on you, standing protectively behind you.
“Oh come on, his Highness can finally stop chasing, he’s finally got someone chasing after him. Must feel nice for you.” Now even the guy’s friends looked weary and Leona, he looked ready to kill.
“Motherfucker.” Leona started marching toward him, fists clenched at his sides, “I’m gonna- ow! Fuck!” You acted as fast as you could, pulled him back by the first thing you could grab: his tail, his weak spot. “Ouch!” Leona snatched it back from you with a growl.
“Or maybe she’s the one who as you wrapped around her finger. And here everyone thought you only like her cause she does whatever you tell her to like a puppy.” A hard fist connected to his face before you could hold Leona back, in fact judging by the deep green fury in his eyes, nothing could hold him back now.
Except for the Principal who broke up the fight almost as soon as it started but Leona still managed to get a few punches in. Upon examining the situation it was determined that he was indeed provoked, but both parties had detention for the rest of the month. This was a better outcome then being suspended, and it was likely done because Leona had already failed this exam quite a few times before.
“You shouldn’t have fought with that guy. He was being a jerk, it’s not I haven’t dealt with those before. Besides it got you in trouble with the Principal too.” Leona didn’t try to shoo you away when you brought the first aid kit over and started wrapping up his hands. His had a bruise too, right next to his lip, but it wasn’t that bad compared to the other guy. “But… thank you, for standing up for me. You didn’t have to get violent though.”
“It was the only language guys like him understand. Once they’ve been put in their place they’re quiet. I made an example out of him, that’s all there is to it. He deserved it anyways, for all the shit he was saying about you. Has this been a thing? You know, for a while now?” Your hands paused as they tied the final knot on the bandages. You didn’t look at him but could feel the heat of his emerald eyes on you. “So it has. How long? Who was it? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because they don’t know what they’re talking about.” It was a lousy excuse but it didn’t seem like something that you needed to bother him with, “It’s just rumors Leona. They’ll pass as soon as they find something else to talk about.”
He narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, immediately hissing at the stinging bruise, “You should have told me. I don’t like you getting treated like that. You’re in my Dorm now, so your well-being is my responsibility too. I may not be next in line to be King but I know how to take care of my own.” Leona’s features softened as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, “Next time, when something like that happens, you come straight to me okay? That’s an order.”
It was things like this that blurred the lines between friendship and something more between you two. You couldn’t blame others for thinking you were his girlfriend when he sometimes acted very much like a boyfriend would, it confused you a great deal.
“Your heart’s racing.” He grinned a sharp toothy smile, “Do you like it when I act protective over you?”
“Huh? Where did that come from?! What? Why are you- don’t change the subject now!” You could feel your face getting hot at his words and actions. You were used to Leona’s teasing but it never came directly after something as adrenaline inducing as a fight.
“I heard the rumors too you know, that we’re dating or sleeping together or whatever. Never figured it’d be taken to this degree, usually when people gossip about me they shut the fuck up the moment they notice me. This was the first time someone’s had the balls to throw words like that in my face. I could have taken that if that was all there was. But not when he insulted you too. You’re… important to me.” Leona moved his lips from your hand to your wrist where he pressed another kiss. “I like it when we spend time together, I don’t want to stop hanging out with you because of silly rumors.”
“Oh.” If possible your face grew even hotter at his protective stance and the admission that he enjoyed your company a lot. It almost sounded like a… “Is this a confession? Is the great Leona Kingscholar confessing?”
His ears flickered back and forth, eyes widening. He wasn’t about to be backed into a corner by you, teased by you, he was supposed to be the cool one here. He was the one who got into a fight for you, opened up to you, and now he’s the one getting teased? Not on his watch. Leona grabbed you with both hands, your wrists secured in his grip and pulling you forward and making you stumble, almost colliding with him, “What if I was?” His half-hooded eyes drifted down to your lips, his parting with a smirk, approaching your shaking ones. “Would you want to do a different kind of weekend study session? I can be a great teacher for certain things.” With inches left between your lips you had moments to decide the outcome.
This might be your only chance to kiss him, even if it was a joke on his part, why not take it?
You leaned forward, closing those last inches between you and pressed your lips against his. He wasn’t surprised at all, which meant that his words earlier weren’t a joke either. And the reason he reacted the way he had was… “You like me?”
“Stupid. Think I get into a fist fight just like that? I’m not a complete brute.” His hands dropped from your wrists to the small of your back where he locked his fingers together.
“But the way you spoke earlier…”
“I care about my friends. But I don’t get into fights for them. Maybe I would if it ever came to that, but you’re the only one… fuck… I feel like an idiot having to explain this. This is why I don’t like talking to people about this sensitive shit.” This sensitive shit being his emotions of course.
You knew how guarded he was, and how easy it was to make him close in on himself so you took his approach instead, “Okay. Then we won’t.” Leona perked up almost right away and started leaning in for the second kiss, “Until you pass the exams next week. That should give you plenty of time to sort things out.” You wiggled out of his arms while he stood there stunned, eyes wide and mouth hanging open at being… rejected? Postponed?
“What?” It wasn’t often that Leona was confused by someone’s behavior, this was one of those moments, “Don’t you like me back?”
“Yes, I do. But I’m not gonna… do things with you until I know where you stand on this. If I do then… what did you get into that fight for? It would prove them right.” As hard as it was to go on with the scheduled study session you had to power though it. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not gonna make me kiss you.”
Leona tilted his head to show you the bruise on the side of his lips, “Sure about that? I took this punch for you.” He wiggled his eyebrows a little but got nowhere because you turned around fast, ignoring the rapid heartbeat in your chest and how much you did in fact want to kiss him. You were also reminded of why you thought he was a pompous jerk. But alas he was a lovable pompous jerk.
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Text
More Papa Headcanons!
PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader
Angst Flavored~
First Part
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TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.
A/N: Enjoy~
I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 
Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 
But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!
Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 
Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 
NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-
Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 
You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 
You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 
Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 
Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).
During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 
Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord
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rynwritesreid · 5 months
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Kiss it away| Spencer Reid
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A/N:This is my first time writing a sub Spencer, so it may not be as good as my other smut pieces. But I still hope you enjoy. This is also partially requested as someone wanted a sub!Spencer. Please tell me if you want more sub! Spencer. I’ve also started writing the first chapter of Mind Games, and honestly I’m really looking forward to posting it on here.
Summary: Spencer is suffering with a migraine, you find a natural way to help relieve his pain, with some natural analgesics.
Content: Smut and fluff. Fem!reader. Dom!reader. Sub!Spencer. established relationship/dynamic Praise kink. Handjob (M!receiving). Oral(M!receiving). Vaginal penetration (P in V). Cream-pie. No mentions of contraception. Pet names (Good boy. Sweet boy). Migraines/pain. A tiny mention of Spencers addiction(literally in passing/referencing why he wouldn’t want medication). Vulnerability. Caring reader. Use of Y/N. Suggestive ending. 18*
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
Spencer, the man known for talking people’s heads off and giving everyone unwanted statistics, was being unusually quiet. In fact he didn’t really seem to be all there. He kept rubbing his head and couldn’t seem to be in bright rooms for prolonged periods of time.
 
Even when you two were at home together, he wouldn’t talk much to you. Instead, he would shut himself in the spare room with the lights turned off and the curtains drawn. You didn’t know what to do, or how to help. You knew he wouldn’t want any medication, so all you could do was try and offer a helping hand.
 
Before going to work one morning, you decided to ask him if he was okay to go to work. You were sure that everyone would understand him wanting to stay home if was feeling this ill.
 
“Hey, Spencer. Are you okay? You’ve being acting off lately. Are you sure you want to go into work today? We’ve not been called out into the field or anything.”
 
Spencer looked up from his coffee, his eyes bloodshot and distant. He gave a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
 
"I appreciate your concern," he murmured, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "But I can't stay home. I need to keep my mind occupied, even if it feels like it's tearing me apart."
 
You watched him closely, the worry etching deeper lines upon your face. Spencer had always been a man of routine, finding solace in the structure and predictability of his work. But now, there was something far more sinister lurking beneath the surface.
 
"Spencer, please," you pleaded softly, taking a step closer to him. "You don't have to suffer alone. We can figure this out together. Maybe it's time to seek some help."
 
“I’ve already being to the doctors; they couldn’t see anything wrong. So, please let me go into work.” Though his voice barely crept above a whisper, you could sense the anger.
 
You sighed, feeling the weight of his frustration and desperation. You knew how much he valued his work, how it gave him purpose and stability. But seeing him like this, so lost and distant, it tore at your heart.
 
“I’m going to call in sick, handsome. Please join me in staying home today, let me take care of you.”
 
Spencer's eyes flickered with uncertainty, a mixture of gratitude and resistance fighting within him. He seemed torn between his desire to protect you from the darkness that plagued him and his fear of burdening you with his own struggles.
 
"I don't want to hold you back," he whispered, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "You deserve someone who can give you the happiness you deserve."
 
Your heart ached at his selfless words, for they only made you love him more. You reached out and gently cupped his face, your touch tender and full of reassurance.
 
"Spencer," you murmured, your voice laced with determination. "Happiness is not something I seek outside of us. It is in being with you, in trying to help shoulder your burden. Let me be here for you."
 
His eyes searched yours, tears shimmering in their depths. Slowly, he nodded, relinquishing the weight he had been carrying alone for far too long.
 
“Okay.” He whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and vulnerability. "Okay, maybe staying home with you today wouldn't be such a bad idea."
You called Hotch, who was very understanding, and told him that you were both taking the day off work.
 
You closed all the curtains and kept only a little lamp on and told him to make himself as comfortable as possible. His sat down on the sofa, with his cup of coffee in hand. You decided to do some research, to see what possible ways you could help ease his pain.
 
Through your research, you saw that orgasms can help, as they act as a natural analgesic. You didn’t know if that was something Spencer would be willing to try, but you knew it was worth a shot.
 
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination as you approached Spencer. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, you gently placed a hand on his thigh.
 
"Spencer," you began softly, trying to find the right words amidst the heaviness in the room. "I've been doing some research, and I came across something that might help... It's a bit unconventional, but... orgasms can actually act as a natural analgesic. They release endorphins that can alleviate pain and promote relaxation."
 
Spencer blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed your words. You could see the wariness and scepticism etched across his face, but there was also a glimmer of hope.
 
“Would you like to try it; you don’t need to do anything. I’m going to do all the work.” Spencer's gaze met yours, his apprehension slowly fading as a small spark of curiosity ignited within him. He knew the pain that haunted him was not physical, but if there was a chance that this unconventional method could provide even a momentary respite from the torment in his mind, he was willing to give it a try.
 
"I trust you," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and gratitude. "If there's a chance it might help, then let's give it a shot."
 
“Now that’s my good boy. I’m going to make you feel better, okay?” Your voice was light, soft and caring.
 
You led him into the bedroom, making sure that he would be comfortable. You slowly took of his clothes, making sure to be delicate.  You could feel the tension and anticipation building between you as each article of clothing was removed. Spencer stood before you, his naked body exposed and vulnerable. You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you, the way his gaze met yours with a mix of trust and longing.
 
With gentle hands, you guided him to lie down on the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets. The dim light cast a warm glow across the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt like a sanctuary from the outside world.
 
You positioned yourself beside him, your fingers trailing delicately along his skin. Every touch was deliberate, filled with tenderness and a desire to ease his pain. Slowly, you let your hand travel lower, caressing the sensitive skin just below his belly button.
 
Spencer's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with measured anticipation. His eyes never left yours, as if seeking reassurance that this act of intimacy was meant to heal rather than exploit.
 
“I love you, my sweet boy. I would do anything to help you. Do you understand?”
 
Spencer nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you too," he replied, his words filled with gratitude and vulnerability. He trusted you implicitly, knowing that your intentions were pure and genuine.
 
As you continued your gentle caresses, your fingers slowly descended further, tracing the outline of his growing arousal. The weight of his pain seemed to lift slightly as pleasure began to replace it, inch by inch. Your touch was delicate and purposeful, seeking to provide comfort and relief rather than raw desire.
 
Spencer's breath hitched again, a soft gasp escaping his lips as your fingertips brushed over the sensitive head of his penis. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, his body relaxing into your touch as you continued to stroke him with soothing care.
 
With each stroke, the tension in his body seemed to dissipate further. His muscles softened beneath your touch, the knots of anguish gradually unravelling as pleasure washed over him in waves. In this moment of intimacy and vulnerability, he allowed himself to let go of the weight he had been carrying. The pain that had consumed him for so long began to fade into the background, replaced by a newfound sense of relief and release.
 
You watched the transformation unfold, your heart swelling with both love and pride. This was more than just physical pleasure; it was a catharsis, a moment of respite amidst the storm that raged within Spencer's mind.
 
As you continued to stroke him, your movements became more purposeful, more focused on unlocking the pleasure hidden beneath the layers of his pain. You could feel his body responding to your touch, his breath quickening and his muscles tensing with anticipation.
 
"Let go, Spencer," you whispered, your voice laced with both tenderness and command. "Surrender to the pleasure, let it wash over you and carry away the darkness."
 
His eyes snapped open, meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and trust. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he allowed himself to fully surrender to the pleasure that enveloped him. The heaviness in his mind melted away, replaced by a blissful ecstasy that radiated through his body.
 
You continued to stroke him, your movements steady and sure, attuned to his every response. The room was filled with the sounds of his gasps and moans, mingling with the soft rhythm of your touch. With each stroke, the tension in his body unravelled further, making room for a profound sense of release and relief.
 
Spencer's muscles twitched beneath your fingertips, his body trembling on the precipice of something powerful. His breath hitched as he teetered on the edge of climax, teetered on the edge of being released from the chains of his pain. And then, with a shuddering groan, he let go.
 
His whole body convulsed as an intense wave of pleasure coursed through him, washing away the thoughts that tormented him.
 
“Oh, my sweet handsome boy, look at the mess you’ve made. I guess I better clean it up, huh? Would you like that?”
 
Spencer didn’t answer for a while, he was still coming down. As he caught his breath, he let out a “yes”. You lowered your head, making sure to give him a trail of kisses.
 
You lowered your head, pressing soft kisses along his abdomen as you made your way down to his spent cock. The taste of him was familiar and comforting, a reminder of the intimate connection you shared. With each gentle lick and suck, you cleaned him up, taking care to savour every drop.
 
Spencer's body relaxed further against the bed, his muscles loosening as a blissful satisfaction settled over him. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, the weight of his pain replaced by a gentle calmness that washed over him.
 
“You don’t we’ve finished yet though. Do you?”
 
Spencer's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of anticipation danced in his eyes. The words hung heavy in the air, a promise of continued pleasure and release. He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
 
"No, I don't think we're finished," he replied, his voice filled with a newfound sense of confidence and desire. "I want to keep going."
 
You smiled back at him, a mix of adoration and mischief dancing in your eyes. Your hand gently cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
 
"Good boy," you murmured, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let's see just how far we can take this."
With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you leaned down and captured Spencer's lips in a searing kiss. Your hands roamed over his bare skin, tracing every dip and curve, as desire coursed through your veins.
 
Spencer's body responded eagerly to your touch, his hands gripping the sheets as he arched into your caress. His kisses grew hungrier, more desperate, as if he sought solace not only from his pain but from the world itself. There was an unspoken understanding between you, an unquenchable hunger that demanded to be sated.
 
You slowly lowered yourself back to his cock. As you worked your mouth up and down his length, your hand stroked his thigh, adding to the sensations coursing through him. Spencer's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his body arching off the bed as he surrendered to the ecstasy that washed over him.
 
You could feel the tension building in him once again, his breath quickening, his muscles tightening. With a final stroke of your tongue, you brought him to the edge once more, guiding him over it with expert precision.
 
His release was explosive, his body convulsing in waves of pleasure. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste as if it were a decadent treat.
 
“Do you think you can give me another?” He slowly nodded your head, as he found himself unable to speak.
 
You moved off the bed so you could undress yourself. Spencer’s eyes scanning your body, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. With each piece of clothing that fell to the floor, Spencer's anticipation grew. He watched you undress, soaking in the sight of your bare skin, the contours of your body that held a promise of pleasure. The desire in his eyes mirrored your own, a hunger that demanded to be satisfied.
 
As you climbed back onto the bed, naked and eager, Spencer's hands reached out instinctively to touch you. Each caress was filled with longing and need, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body as if memorizing every curve.
 
Your skin tingled under his touch, and you couldn't help but gasp at the electricity that coursed through your veins. It was as if every nerve ending in your body had awakened, craving the pleasure that only Spencer could provide.
 
With a gentle push, you urged Spencer to lie back on the bed, his body surrendering to your desires. Your lips sought out his with an urgency born from months of pent-up longing and anticipation. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and need.
 
“You haven’t been able to cum yet. Please let me help you out?” His voice was cracking, his eyes pleading for you to let him do anything.
 
“My sweet boy, I told you I was going to be doing all the work. Just relax.”
 
Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and desire. He allowed himself to sink into the mattress, surrendering control over his pleasure to you completely. You straddled him, positioning yourself just above his aching need, teasing him with the anticipation of what was to come.
 
You began to slowly grind against him, the friction between your bodies sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to build the tension and desire that simmered just beneath the surface. Spencer's hands grasped at your hips, pulling you closer, desperate for more contact.
 
But you kept your pace torturously slow, denying him the release he yearned for. Each time he tried to thrust upwards, seeking more contact, you gently but firmly held him down, reminding him who was in control.
 
"You're doing so well," you whispered as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Just a little longer. I promise it'll be worth the wait."
 
Spencer's body trembled beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought against the overwhelming need for release. His eyes were glazed with desire, his lips parted in a silent plea for more. The intensity of his desire mirrored your own, and you reveled in the power you held over him.
 
With each tantalizing movement of your hips, you could feel yourself growing wet and swollen, your own need begging to be satisfied. But this moment was about Spencer, about giving him the pleasure, he so desperately craved. You would have your turn soon enough.
 
His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with their raw intensity. With each passing second, Spencer edged closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you were not ready to let him go just yet. Your movements quickened, but only slightly, teasing him with the promise of release while denying him its full realization.
 
"Please," he begged, his voice thick with desperation. "I need to cum, please."
 
You smiled down at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of affection and dominance. You knew he was on the edge, his body trembling with need. But you wanted to push him even further, to take him to a place of ecstasy he had never experienced before.
 
"Patience, my love," you whispered, your voice silkily smooth. "I want to make you feel so good."
 
With those words, you increased the tempo of your movements, grinding against him with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure intensified, threatening to break through the dam of control that Spencer had managed to maintain. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body writhing beneath yours as he fought against the mounting pleasure.
 
You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that swallowed his moans and pleas for release. Your tongue danced with his, an erotic ballet that mirrored the movements of your bodies. The taste of him mingled with your own desire, intoxicating and addictive.
 
With a final thrust, you felt Spencer's body tense beneath you, his release imminent. The grip of his fingers on your hips grew tighter as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over him. His moans filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that reverberated in your ears.
 
As he climaxed, you continued to move against him, prolonging his pleasure until he couldn't take any more. Wave after wave of intense sensation coursed through his body, leaving him gasping for breath, his limbs limp and sated.
 
You slowly eased yourself off him, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of your lips. The sight of Spencer lying there, spent, and thoroughly pleasured, made your heart swell with pride and delight. You had taken him to new heights of pleasure, pushed boundaries and explored desires you had only dared to whisper about.
 
“When you’re feeling better, I think you should reward me for taking such good care of you. Don’t you?”
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eoieopda · 8 months
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tidal.
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but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” 
pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.
Vernon isn’t blind. 
He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.
So, yes, Vernon can see you. 
He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.
For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.
He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright. 
You still don’t seem to notice.
His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” is all he gets in response. 
You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you. 
None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.
Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you. 
You don’t reciprocate. 
He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.
Which, for the record, he does not.
This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”
Ope. 
It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”
A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.
“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”
He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”
Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.
“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”
For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.
“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”
Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”
Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”
And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.
But you don’t say anything.
Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk. 
Do you or do you not want this right now?
You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”
He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.
“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.
Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.
For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.
You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so. 
But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever —  have to convince me to fuck you.” 
Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.
To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple. 
“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw. 
Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access. 
He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”
“Oh?” 
You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat. 
Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.
“It might be messy…” 
The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.
Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”
And he means it. 
Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.
You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.
“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”
“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound. 
You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.
But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”
“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”
Oh, shit. Government name?
“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”
Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”
“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.
You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”
“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”
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You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.
Maybe.
Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?
As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.
You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life. 
It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic. 
Perhaps.
After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.
“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.
Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.
You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.
He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.
That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.
While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.
As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.
When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.
“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.
The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.
“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”
I chose this one?
You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.
Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.
Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”
It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.
“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.” 
You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.
Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”
“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”
“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”
His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.
Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”
I choose this one.
Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.
You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”
“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you. 
You arch an eyebrow, unfazed. 
“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”
He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.
You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.
“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”
Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist. 
“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”
He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.
Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”
“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.
He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.
At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”
“We can workshop it.”
“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”
It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.
You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.
“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”
You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”
He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.
“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”
You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.
That’s when it hits you:
Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.
God, you want him.
One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.
“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”
Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.
He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”
“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”
The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.
“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”
“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”
The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.
With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him. 
“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”
He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”
Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”
“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”
It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.
You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”
Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.
Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.
“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”
That hits like a truck.
He was waiting on you. 
You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before. 
Christ. 
His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.
Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”
Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.
“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.
You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you. 
You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.
The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.
“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”
His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.
You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you. 
“Fuck!”
Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.
His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”
“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.
Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”
The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.
Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”
You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.
“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”
He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”
You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.
“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”
1K notes · View notes
awrkive · 7 months
Text
[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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eamour · 2 months
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emotions do not matter.
! this post was highly inspired by former loa blogger aphrodite apprentice !
emotions and feelings, the way neville coins these words, are of different nature. when speaking of emotions, we are speaking of unconscious emotional experiences. feelings, however, are a conscious act and usually a reaction to our emotions — which, according to neville, are the secret to help us manifest.
emotions vs feelings.
an emotion is an immediate reaction to your emotional state of mind, whereas a feeling remains a lot longer and is felt for a longer period of time. emotions could be joy, fear, anger, lust or sadness. the counterparts in feelings would then be happiness, anxiety, bitterness, love or depression. if something unpleasant happens in your life, you will react to it emotionally first. only later, you will be able to form a feeling. as you can see, an emotion is a lot more intense and often manifests in a physical reaction (ex. facial expressions), not based on any reasoning while in contrast your feeling is based on logical reasoning. you could say a feeling is a way of explaining an emotion with thoughts which you have felt due to external experiences. this also means that not every feeling will always be accurate enough to explain an emotion and how you actually feel emotionally.
emotions cannot manifest ...
once again, a feeling isn’t the emotion itself. your feeling has nothing to do with our emotional state of mind but rather your mental state of mind. that means that your feelings, longterm, are more concerned with what you feel to be true or false, right or wrong and real or unreal.
mental · relates to the mind; thinking process.
emotional · relates to emotions; feeling process.
... only feelings can.
especially because a feeling does not necessarily have to correlate to an emotion, it is entirely up to you to define your feeling. you could replace feeling with what you accept, know or believe to be true. it's a thought. and an emotion isn't. you may not help the way you emotionally feel — and you shouldn’t! you should never suppress an emotion and feel sad, angry, etc. — but you can make the conscious decision to define your feeling. and since a feeling is a state, after all, you can manifest anything you'd like while feeling like you are at your lowest (or highest). your emotions will not manifest!
emotions arise.
as i was saying, an emotion is a pretty much sudden response. you may lose something and feel bad about it, maybe you had a fight with your friend or perhaps you were told some unsettling news. whatever it is, you will always feel some intense type of way from time to time.
emotions fade away.
the thing is, emotions come and go. you may feel super joyful one minute and then feel super sad the next. that’s totally normal, and we are definitely not trying to fix our wonderful human nature in any way.
emotional responses.
emotions are a response. when manifesting, when changing your feeling, you might also experience emotions of some sort. you may feel euphoric of manifesting something that has always felt very prestigious or hardly available to you.
but the same way, you could not feel anything at all. some manifestations aren’t going to move you the way some manifestations do, but that’s not an issue! the premise is, you don’t HAVE to feel excited. you don’t have to jump out of happiness whenever you think about how you manifested to find your keys you had lost the other day. remember, emotions come naturally. you don’t have to force them.
accepting and persisting.
the only thing you really have to do is to accept your desire as yours and persist in that assumption. feel it to be true, to be real, to be factual. that’s what feeling the wish fulfilled means. the feeling of your assumption to be realty.
with love, ella.
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floralpascal · 1 year
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The Best Lies
Summary: After you join the 141, Ghost does everything he can to fight his growing feelings for you. But during a night out with you, he finds it harder and harder to ignore.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.9k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)
Warnings: a little angst, Ghost agonizes over having feelings, canon-level violence, blood, alcohol/drinking, kissing, semi-public dry humping, fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship
A/N: This truly is 50% Ghost trying to ignore the fact that he's down bad and 50% depraved smut. Writing Ghost losing his mind over having feelings is truly so fun. I hope you all enjoy!
Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist
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Ghost had convinced himself that he had done more than just nip his issue at the bud. He thought he had pulled it out by the roots and set it aflame, never to bother him again. 
And why would he think otherwise? He had done that same thing time and time again, and it had always worked. This time, he thought, would be no different. He had washed his hands of the issue and could continue on like before. 
The problem was that he was dead wrong. This time was different. 
You were different. 
You were the newest member of the 141, a sniper and one of the best hand-to-hand combat specialists he had ever seen. You were a strong woman who fought hard and fast, with an eye for precision. Price had been trying to get you onto the team for months, telling Ghost that he was convinced you were the perfect addition. Price had been right; you were perfect. You fit right in with the guys, kept up with their banter, and were as tough as nails. When you worked, you had a focus that was so zeroed-in that Soap and Gaz had started to liken you to Ghost. 
By all means, you were the best addition to the team that they could have asked for. You weren’t the problem. Ghost was the problem. 
What had started as a small acknowledgment of your attractiveness had slowly grown into something more. It was your quick sarcastic quips that battled with his own, your soothing demeanor and featherlight touch as you patched him up, your ability to make a terrible situation seem better than it was - the list went on. There was something there between the two of you, a connection that he had never experienced before. No, his attraction wasn’t just surface-level, it was something deeper. 
It was something that he wasn’t supposed to feel - on many levels. 
Ghost never got involved, period. He could acknowledge when a woman was attractive, have a night where he gave in to the physical aspect of it, but it never grew to anything. He didn’t let it. He would dispose of those feelings as soon as he registered them. In his line of work and in his experience, feelings were a liability - a luxury that he would always pay the price for. They complicated everything and unusually ended in pain. In short, they were a weakness that needed to be disposed of. 
What was more, you were his subordinate, his teammate. He was a professional, he never let himself feel anything like that for his subordinates. Hell, he barely even had what could be classified as friendships with his subordinates. Soap and Gaz had been the first he had ever shown his face to, and that was after fighting by their side for years. 
The bottom line was that Ghost didn’t let himself get distracted, much less get distracted by a subordinate who was just doing her bloody job. Yet, in a few short months, you had flipped everything Ghost thought about himself on its head. It was disorienting. 
Once he realized what was happening to him, he tried to put a stop to it. He worked with you when he had to, interacted with you when he had to, but besides that, he largely steered clear of you. Whether it was downtime at the base or a night out with the other 141 guys, if you were there, Ghost wasn’t. It was the only solution he had. 
If only it had worked. 
Even staying clear of you couldn’t stop the spread of whatever had taken hold of him. He slipped one day, imagining what your lips would feel like against his while you talked to Price, barely even realizing that he had been staring at your lips the entire time. Not too long after that, you had tried to get his attention while on an assignment, opting to whisper a low, breathless “Ghost!” into the comm. Going straight to the comm in his right ear, the low drawl of his name from your lips was almost like a siren’s call, sending a shiver racing down his spine as he responded back to you. Another day, he caught a glimpse of you training with Soap, watching as you passed his guard and kneeled between his legs as you continued to fight. The sight shouldn’t have sent his blood boiling or sent his thoughts straight into the gutter - you were just training. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw you look up at him as he swiftly left the training room, your piercing gaze following him as you helped Soap up from the floor. 
He didn’t feel anything for you. He didn’t feel anything for you. He repeated it like a mantra, like he could make it come true if only he said it enough, with enough conviction.
So why did he still have a knot in his chest every time he saw you? Every time you spoke through the comms directly into his ear, your voice strong and smooth as honey? Every time your eyes locked with his, an unreadable expression on your face?
He didn’t feel anything for you. He almost made himself believe it.
“Styx, get the fuck out of here!” He bellowed at you. “Leave me! That’s an order!”
It was a stealth job gone south nearly a year and a half after you joined the team, their intel leading them into a pretty nasty situation. Almost everyone had long retreated to safety. 
Ghost was hit, blood streaming from his right thigh. The bullet was still in the wound, making it bad enough to where he could barely put weight on it, considerably slowing down the two of you. He was a liability now, putting you both at risk of being killed or captured. You stayed with him nonetheless, shoulders set with determination. 
“Like hell,” you scoffed as you crouched down to where Ghost sat. Your face was dirty from the fight, your clothes scuffed and torn with a slice cutting through your sleeve from a bullet graze. He tried to push you away, continuing to order you to fall back with the others, but you refused, your burning gaze snapping up to meet his. “Either I get you out of here or we keep bickering right here until they find us and kill us! Your choice.”
Of course you wouldn’t leave him behind. It’s who you were. It’s what made you you, even if it was infuriating to Ghost. Even if he would have done the exact same thing you were if it was you with a bullet wound instead of him. 
His head starting to go fuzzy from the blood loss, his focus wavered.
“Hey,” you called, snapping your fingers in front of him before you started to check his wound. “Eyes on me, Ghost. Stay with me.”
After examining his thigh, you clicked your tongue before finally deciding that the makeshift bandage he had fashioned would be enough to suffice for now. 
Ghost let out a groan, finally letting you pull him up and wrap one of his arms around your shoulders. You took some of his weight, helping him limp a little faster now. He was putting you in more danger, that he knew. If you would’ve just listened to him, your chances of going undetected and making it out of there would’ve been drastically higher. But your grip on the strap of his belt to help ease the weight off of his leg was firm, refusing to let him go.
That same feeling nagged in the back of his mind as you dragged him with you, the blood loss making it harder to ignore the thoughts that he usually shoved down. 
You murmured words of encouragement to him as you walked for what felt like a lifetime.  “Come on, big guy, just a little more. Just a little faster.”
Ghost huffed a small laugh. He was in a haze now, letting words slip past his lips that he would normally have guarded against. “Can’t be sayin’ stuff like that, love. Might give a man the wrong idea.”
Your head snapped to look at him, surprise written in the pinch of your brows. Ghost found enough clarity then to shut up, the reality of what he had just said slowly setting in. Not only had he voiced a sentiment he had barely been willing to admit to himself, he had voiced it to you. 
You examined him for a moment with a confused, analyzing eye. Finally, you huffed out a laugh, your grip tightening on his belt as you readjusted his arm on your shoulder. Your eyes slid over his masked face, a flicker of amusement creeping into your gaze before you turned to look at your surroundings again.
After that, Ghost tried to hold on to every bit of self-control he had left to keep his mouth shut.
You both made it out that day, the two of you banged up and worse for wear, but alive. Ghost had been pretty out of it by the time you got him back to the exfil point. How you had managed to drag the both of you out of there while holding up a man as large as Ghost, he could barely remember, the whole event becoming fuzzier in his mind past the point when he had let those words slip to you.
The shot to his thigh had been a nasty one, leaving him bedridden in the medical area for the next few weeks, per the doctors’ orders. Price made sure Ghost didn’t try to disregard them. 
Ghost told Price what you had done, wanting you to get the credit you deserved for your bravery. Still, it didn’t stop him from thinking that you very well could’ve gotten yourself killed for him. The thought pulled at the familiar knot in his chest.
“What’re you in for?”
Ghost followed the voice to the doorway of his room only to find you leaned against the frame, a small, teasing smile on your lips. You were cleaned up now. Having donned a fresh set of clothes, you now wore a plain black T-shirt tucked into camouflage tac pants. Despite your teasing attitude, your eyelids were heavy, like you had barely slept in the two days you had been back on base. A thick bandage poked out from under your shirtsleeve, covering the area where you had been grazed. Other than that, you seemed like you were in one piece from the entire ordeal. 
Why did that revelation alone release some of the tension in his chest?
“Jus’ a scratch,” he rumbled. He couldn’t help but humor you a little. He gestured to the hospital bed and monitors surrounding him as he huffed, “Bit of an overkill if you ask me.”
You chuckled, pushing yourself off the door frame before coming closer. Voice laced with sarcasm, you said, “Yeah, okay, tough guy.”
It was quiet for a moment, the silence thick and heavy over the two of you. Your eyes slid over him, taking in his condition, your gaze almost too much to handle.
He didn’t feel anything for you. Under the weight of your scrutiny, the thought was more like a pleading prayer.
“You should’ve left me out there,” he asserted, trying to ignore his own thoughts. “You disobeyed a direct order.”
You rolled your eyes, your hands moving defensively to your hips. “I made a call and saved your life. You’d think that would count for something.”
“That wasn’t your call to make.”
“Listen, just because you can’t stand me doesn’t mean that I can’t make a call. You-”
“Is that what you bloody think?” Ghost spat, surprise creeping into his voice.
For the first time, he saw you hesitate. You blinked for a moment. 
“How could I not?” You finally retorted, stepping closer to him, your tired eyes alight with anger. “You avoid me like the damn plague, it seems like you can barely stand me, and you second-guess every call I make. Yet you treat all the guys like your brothers. You trust them when they make a gutsy call. And what? I’m supposed to think you respect me at all?”
Of course that’s what it looked like to you. You had taken his distance to mean that he didn’t want you here, that he didn’t think as highly of you as he did the others.
“I’ll only say this once.” Ghost leaned forward, his eyes locking with yours through the holes in his mask. “You’re wrong. You’ve got my damn respect - have had it for a while, even before this mission. I think you’re one of the toughest people here. But I still gave you an order. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. And that would’ve been on me.”
Whatever you were expecting to hear from him, it wasn’t that. You appraised him, squinting a little as you did. When you finally spoke, your voice was quieter, but still even. Still strong. “I’d do it again.”
Now, it was Ghost who was at a loss for words. He tried to ignore the intensity in your voice, the certainty. As if that wasn’t exactly his issue - that you would be willing to put yourself on the line for him again.
“Y’know,” you mused as you turned and walked back to the door, “usually people just say ‘thank you’ when you save their life.”
With one last glance at him over your shoulder, you were gone. 
~~~
In the months following your confrontation, Ghost stopped avoiding you at all costs, letting himself be closer with you again. The fact that you had taken his distance to mean that he thought less of you gnawed at him in a way that was damn near painful. Ghost’s issues were his own - he wasn’t going to take them out on you anymore by avoiding you. He shoved those thoughts for you down into the recesses of his brain, thinking that this time, the tactic might actually work. 
You seemed happy about his change in demeanor. While you said nothing to point it out, he saw how you gradually relaxed around him over time. You were quick to joke with him now, your sarcastic quips as precise as your aim, as if you knew that your banter made it easier for him. You were lighter with him now, ignoring the weight of that mission. Most of the time, he could, too.
Most of the time.
I’d do it again. The words rang in his ears each time he saw you now. They dug at him, called to him. It was maddening. The weight of those words remained heavy on his chest, their meaning something he was wary to look too closely into.
Tonight, he found you at a small pub a few streets over from the hotel the 141 had been staying at in some small Irish town, your elbows resting on the sleek wooden bar as you swirled a whiskey in its glass. You seemed deep in thought, your eyes only half-watching the amber liquid spin under the pub’s dim, warm yellow lights.
“The guys all leave?” Ghost asked, pulling you from your thoughts. A small smile played at the edge of your lips as you turned towards him, gently placing the glass back on the table.
“Yeah, they all left me,” you sighed dramatically. “Price went to see an old friend here in town. Soap and Gaz wanted to go check out a pub a couple blocks over from here.”
Ghost paused for a minute to order a bourbon from the bartender. “And you didn’t wanna go?”
You shook your head. “The place sounded a little too loud for my liking.”
Ghost made a noise in solidarity, picking up the glass the bartender had placed down for him. Your taste in pubs, he had learned, was close to both his and Price’s: laidback and quiet. Sure enough, this pub was just that. It was an old vintage-style pub, one that didn’t attract a loud, rowdy crowd. The small number of patrons were mostly older people - locals, by the looks of them - laughing softly as most of them paid attention to the football game on the television. It was the kind of pub people went to when they were looking for a warm, peaceful night. It made it easier to relax a little in this strange pub in this strange city. In your line of work, that was a difficult feat to accomplish. 
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a while, both of you nursing your drinks.
But something was on Ghost’s mind, something that had been sitting with him for months. He broke the silence to say only, “Thank you.”
You turned to look at Ghost, an eyebrow raised. You hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure that you had heard him correctly. “Huh? What for?”
“I never said it,” he explained simply, voice even and calm. “For savin’ my life ‘n all.”
You appraised him for a moment, taken aback by his admission. The two of you had barely talked about what happened that day. Finally, you nodded. “Still think I was wrong for disobeying your order?”
“No,” he admitted, quickly adding, “just don’t make a habit of it, yeah?”
You nodded, chuckling a little before you took the final sip of your drink. “Of course.”
It was quiet for another moment before you set your empty glass down with a clink. When the bartender came back around, you handed him enough money to pay for both your drinks and Ghost’s. Then, you turned back to Ghost and said, “You sure are… talkative when you get shot.”
Ghost averted his eyes from you at that, opting instead to watch the other patrons as they celebrated their team’s goal. His only response was, “It was blood loss.”
When he looked back to you, your piercing eyes were trained on his. You seemed like you were trying to piece him together, to figure out the puzzle of him. 
“Blood loss or not, I never took you as the kind of guy to have his head in the gutter like that,” you teased, your tone light. Underneath the teasing tone though, laid something more serious. Something Ghost hoped he was wrong about. 
“I’m not.” It was a lie. He knew it. The worst part was that you knew it, too. 
A smirk played at the edge of your lips at that.
“Sure you’re not, Ghost,” you teased. You stood from your seat then before you leaned in close to Ghost’s ear, your hand gliding along his shoulder. Voice near a whisper, sweet and honeyed, you added, “Can’t be saying things like that, then. Might give a girl the wrong idea.”
With that, you were gone. By the time Ghost turned around, you were halfway to the door, shooting him a sultry, burning look over your shoulder. It was a look he had never seen from you before, a look he was sure was aided by the whiskey you had been drinking. It was an invitation extended to him under the dim yellow lights of the pub.
It was the first blatant sign he had seen that you were interested in him like that - that it hadn’t just been him afflicted by whatever this was. 
In the split second your eyes locked with his, a million thoughts ran through his mind, all saying that he definitely shouldn’t take the invitation, shouldn’t follow you. For one, it would undo all the work he had done to ignore his own thoughts about you. Not to mention the fact that he was your superior and all the hardline rules that very clearly stated that he shouldn’t unless he wanted to risk his entire career. 
But what if he did? What if he gave in to you this one time? What if all he needed was a night with you to finally get you out of his damn head? He could have you once and finally be able to get over the hold you had on him. To let go, maybe all he had to do was give in.
Fuck.
Ghost abandoned his seat in a moment. Weaving his large frame through the tables and patrons, his eyes were trained on you as you slipped through the front door. He caught it right as it swung closed from you, hot on your tail. Pushing out into the cold, crisp night air, he found you barely two steps away from him. You turned when you saw him, a small smile blooming across your face.
Ghost was on you, his hands grabbing your hips as he pulled the both of you into the alley. Shrouded in darkness, he pressed your back to the brick wall of the pub before shoving the lower part of his mask just above his mouth. Before he could even move again, your hand came to wrap around the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours in a rough, messy kiss. 
It was better than he imagined. You were better than he imagined, the feeling of your plush lips on his almost making him forget why he had held himself back from you for so long. 
He caged you in against the wall, one hand grasping against the rough, scratchy surface as he leaned in while the other held your head in place. You pulled at him, fervent and insistent as you drew him ever closer to you. Shifting in your hold, he slotted his knee between your legs, maneuvering so that his large, muscular thigh rested against your clothed center. When you gasped against him, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue along yours, the thick, heady taste of your whiskey mixing with his bourbon. It was the taste of you, though, that was intoxicating. More so than any drink he could have ordered. 
As you ground down against his thigh, your tongue met his with equal fervor. And while you grasped the back of Ghost’s mask in your desperation, he knew you would make no effort to pull it from him. How he knew that was a mystery even to him. All he knew was that the way you tugged at his hair through the mask sent him careening over the edge of a chasm that he couldn’t see the bottom of.
His hand left the wall beside you to firmly grasp your waist, urging you to increase the speed of your hips against him. Flexing his thigh, another gasp fell from your mouth. It was maddening, a sound he knew he had to draw out of you again, only louder and unobstructed. The sound shot through him like adrenaline, fast and exhilarating. 
For the first time in a long time, Ghost felt truly awake. It was like a fire had been lit in his veins and you were the gasoline fueling the raging flames. 
Suddenly, a loud group of people passed by the alley on the adjoining street, voices ringing out in conversation. All at once, Ghost was reminded that you were both out in the open, albeit tucked into a dark alley. You broke from the kiss, your mind seemingly on the same track.
“My room,” you offered breathlessly. “At the hotel.”
“Lead the way, Styx.”
You made the quick walk back to the small hotel with Ghost in tow, winding through the dimly illuminated streets and alleys with an illicit sort of stealth and swiftness, the both of you keeping an eye out for any of the other guys along the way. While you both knew that you wouldn’t see any of them again tonight, neither of you could seem to help it. You both knew you weren’t supposed to be doing this. 
Yet, neither of you put a stop to whatever this was either.
Ghost had you pressed up against the door to your room the moment you locked it, your back to his chest and arms extended to brace yourself against the sleek black wood. His mask once again pushed to just under his nose, he lavished hungrily at your neck just below the ear, earning another sharp gasp from you. His hands dipped to the front of your jeans, racing to blindly undo them. Movements deft, efficient, and precise, his fingers were quickly past the undone line of your jeans and slipping under the band of your underwear.
“You want this?” he rasped, both because he needed the confirmation that you were completely in and because he wanted to hear the way you would sound.
“Yes,” you rushed almost immediately, a newfound desperation lining your voice. You moved your ass back against him, pressing yourself against his covered erection and he had to hold himself back from rutting into you. “Fuck, Ghost…”
Ghost nipped at your ear as he stilled your hips, his right hand drawing lower under your underwear. 
“Easy,” he warned. ”Gotta open you up first.”
With that, his fingers finally met your core, gliding through your soaked folds. He groaned at the feeling of you already dripping for him, your underwear even damp with your arousal. He dragged some of your slick up from your entrance until he found the small bundle of nerves that had you rolling your hips forward in his grasp. Completely encircling you from behind with his body, he held you flush to him while he rubbed hard and fast circles between your thighs. 
Melting into his touch, you started to move your left hand from the door to grasp for him. His free hand stopped you in only a moment, grabbing your wrist and replacing it back in its previous position.
“Hands stay there,” he ordered. For once, you actually listened, opting instead to claw your fingers against the wood as he slipped two fingers past your entrance and into your heat. He moved achingly slow at first, letting you feel the way his fingers dragged along your walls, filling and stretching your tight cunt already. You moaned, your head falling back to rest against his broad chest. 
“Ghost… Ghost, faster,” you pleaded, voice airy. The satisfaction he got from your desperate request was all too strong, more than he had ever experienced before. It shot through him like a drug, fast and disorienting. 
He picked up the pace, steadily building up to a pace that had your knees ready to give out. Wrapping his free arm around your middle, he held you steady while he wrecked you with his fingers. He tried not to think about the fact that it had only been a few months ago that it had been you holding him up, that now he got to return the favor to you in a much more pleasurable way. 
When you cried out for him, Ghost whispered into your ear, parroting your own words from that fateful mission, “Just a little more.” 
With that, he added a third finger, holding his blistering pace. The sounds you made were utterly debauched, utterly sinful. He should have been worried about how loud you were - surely others in the hotel could hear your moans. You would be lucky if there weren’t complaints to the management by morning. It was reckless… but Ghost couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too enraptured by the ringing of your voice as you fell apart beneath his touch. 
It only took another minute for you to come undone around him, your muscles tensing around his fingers, squeezing him as your mouth fell open in a silent scream while he worked you through it. 
After you had begun to relax, a sweet whine leaving your lips, he finally slowed his pace to a stop. He pulled out of you then, drawing his hand up to his mouth to suck them clean. Eyes blown wide with lust, you turned to watch him as he slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth, the tang of your cum one that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to forget. You watched his display until the tip of his middle finger left his lips. Then, you turned so swiftly he could barely register it and pushed up to kiss him again, your tongue dipping into his mouth to taste yourself as you threw your arms over his shoulders. 
A groan left Ghost, one that surprised even him. It was so much. The taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your body under his hands, and the way you grasped at his back to pull him closer all had his head swimming, his usual cool-headed clarity quickly becoming muddled. His heart was hammering in his chest, his cock so hard it was aching in his jeans.
Alarm bells rang in his head, telling him that he was in too deep. Never had he ever been this… wrecked from sex before he had even gotten his cock out of his underwear. Something was different this time. That feeling was back in his chest - the one he wouldn’t put a name to. 
But he couldn’t turn back now. His sense was far too gone for that. 
Ghost effortlessly lifted you up from the floor before carrying you to the bed. When your back lightly hit the mattress, your mouth open in a surprised oh, he was already on top of you. He helped you peel the clothes from your body, his own clothes soon joining yours on the floor, save for the mask. 
You looked so beautiful like this, spread out under Ghost like a dream. It was like every one of his long-ignored thoughts about you had come to life. Your hungry eyes, the way he could see every dip and plane and curve of your body like this, the way you practically glowed in the moonlight that poured into the darkened room… the sight made him finally let go of all his inhibitions about having you. He would deal with the consequences later. 
Suddenly, he realized that he had just been staring at you. 
You quirked an eyebrow at him, an easy smile on your lips. “Enjoying the view?”
In lieu of a reply, he leaned down, grabbed your chin, and smashed his lips into yours as he ground his hips against you, his cock sliding along your slickened folds.
“Ghost,” you breathed against him. He wished you wouldn’t say his name like that - like he was something good for you. Yet, it still only made his cock ache more. “Just - fuck - just fuck me already.”
“This isn’t gonna be soft, Styx,” he warned, lining his cock up with your entrance. 
You gave him a small smirk, eyes full of mischief as you replied, “Good.”
Fucking hell, you were trying to kill him. 
Ghost pushed inside of you slowly at first, reveling in the way you felt around him as you squeezed him, all molten heat and velvet. He draped himself over you, one hand planted on either side of your head, and watched as your eyes rolled back, your breathing becoming ragged once again. Your nails bit into his shoulder blades as you tried to adjust to him, the sting ever so satisfying against his skin. 
“You’re s-so - ah - so big,” you mumbled, almost to yourself. 
Buried to the hilt in you, he waited until he felt you begin to relax.
Then, Ghost threw himself into the flames. 
He almost drew out of you completely before slamming back into you. And if he thought your sounds before were something to behold, the moans you let out now were nothing short of divine. Again. And again. And again.
He fucked you into the mattress so hard the bed shook and groaned with the force of each thrust, devolving into one never-ending cacophony as his speed increased. Your tits bounced with each impact and he dropped his head to take one nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue before moving to the other. Using one hand to hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you roughly fisted the sheets with the other, searching for any point of stability you could find as your world rocked. 
When he lifted from your chest, he found your head tilted back on the mattress, neck outstretched and straining. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your face contorted in pure pleasure. 
Yet, something gnawed at Ghost, an urge so deep and so powerful he was useless to hold out against.
“Eyes on me, Styx.”
Your eyes blinked open, fluttering for a moment as you tried to refocus your gaze. Finally, your eyes locked with his, as piercing as ever. That feeling flared in his chest again, his next few thrusts even harder than before. It was like he was drowning, only in the best possible way.
He watched the force of each thrust as it rocked through you, every twitch of your face and desperate grasp of your hand in the sheets. He watched the way you drank him in, eyes hooded and hungry as they held his gaze. 
“Ghost.” 
It was a plea. A demand. One he was all too eager to give in to.
Connected your lips again as one of his hands wound up to the hand you had fisted in the sheets. His fingers wrapping around your wrist, he guided your hand above your head and pinned it to the mattress. He felt you groan into the kiss before you slipped your tongue into his mouth, heated and messy. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was all too much. He was enjoying this all too much. You were too good, too addicting. 
You were taking him deeper than he had ever been. Your cunt threatened to pull him under, the pleasure of your tight walls too intense. He was only a step away from the edge, having to hold himself back from going over before you. 
Ghost used his free hand to grab one of your legs and hook it over his hip.
Like this, his movement told you. 
Taking the hint through your haze, you brought your other leg up around his hip and locked them together behind him. 
Instantly, you broke from the kiss, a broken moan ringing in his ears and vibrating against his lips. They flowed freely from you now, the beautiful sound filling the room. He couldn’t hold in his own grunts anymore, one for every snap of his hips against yours. 
Ghost felt you tense a moment before it happened, your body going rigid and your moan abruptly cut. Then, you were squeezing him so tight, it ripped a deep, guttural moan from his chest. The force of your orgasm rocked through you, seeming like you were trying to pull him over that same edge with you. Surely enough, with a few more rocks of his hips, he felt that heat as he released, coating your walls with his cum, your release taking every bit of him with you. 
Before he could pull out of you, spent and panting, your hand found his covered cheek, the cloth warm under your touch, and guided his lips back to yours again. Your kiss was slow. Deliberate. Heavy. A hint of something deeper on your lips. 
And as he ducked out of your room that night, the moonlight seeming dimmer in his room than it had been when it was illuminating your face, Ghost tried to push all his thoughts of you away for good. 
He had his fill and now he was done. 
He could move on. 
He didn’t feel anything for you. 
They were all good lies. For the best lies were the lies he told himself. 
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exhaslo · 6 months
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hey in the mean time I wanted to request something sweet but spicy 😋, so what about (collage?)
Bully!miguel ? X a nobody!fem reader (like someone that the popular kids doesn’t even know about or care into that much offend 😔 and is often bullied by different people and get in the middle of the fight, well tried not to and only get push,nudge, or whatever) and Miguel who is a bullied nerd and saw her one day that catch his eyes it was reader who’s was running into her next period.
Smut pls and fluff PLS 😭🙏 (love any ending 🫶😼) HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY! bye eshalo (I think I spelled it wrong 😔 I’m sorry)
Okay, I think I got a unique idea for this. Gonna spice it up a bit if that's okay~ ;)
Summary: The biggest bully in school had got his eye on the 'ghost' of the college.
Warning: Minors DNI, bullying, smut, fingering, oral (f-receiving)
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There was a popular rumor throughout the college of a ghost that wandered the halls. At first, many people did not believe it since the rumor had only begun a year ago; but, as the weeks passed more and more people saw the ghost. It became a game after two months. Whoever can catch the ghost will win a prize.
It was all fun and games until you found out that you were the ghost. The tears that streamed down your face that night were heavy. You knew that you avoided people and didn't like to get involved, but to be called a ghost. This was worse than the bullying you had throughout middle school and high school.
It only got worse from there. You were afraid to do anything. Every time you stepped out of your private dorm, people could claim they saw the ghost and tried to catch you. You nearly weep every time you even tried to go study. It was all a joke to everyone.
"I hate this," You cried softly as you sat in the staircase of your dorm building.
"Hate what?"
"Being called the ghost." You whimpered. It took you a moment before gasping, "W-Who's there?"
You rubbed your eyes as Miguel walked up the stairs. Your eyes widen in shock. The college's biggest bully stood right below you. His tall and overwhelming features standing out. He gave you a cold stare as he observed you from head to toe.
"You're a pretty cute ghost,"
Miguel smirked as he watched you flinch. Truth be told, Miguel knew exactly who you were. He had his eyes on you since you started this college. Miguel had bullied a lot of people, but watching you get bullied erked him. He wanted to be the shoulder for you to cry on, but how could he approach you? He already had a bad reputation.
"Y-You're-"
"Miguel O'Hara, pleasure to meet you."
Within an instant, Miguel hovered before you. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. You withdrew your hand, walking backwards towards the wall. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to come up with words. He was too close.
"So the ghost can be touched," Miguel said with a smug grin. You bit your lower lip,
"I-I'm not a ghost!"
"I know you're not," Miguel had your back pressed against the wall, "I've had my eye on you for a while now. I want to get to know you. Will you let me do that?"
You gulped as you looked up into his eyes. The biggest threat in this campus wanted to get close to you? As scared as you were, you couldn't help but agree. This was going to be your way of having protection. Besides, Miguel was good looking. Perhaps with him around, you wouldn't be called a ghost anymore.
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It had only been a month since Miguel became your personal bodyguard as you called it. He stuck by your side like glue, keeping you company and helping you avoid those pranksters. You loved having Miguel by yourself. He made you laugh and helped you come out of your shell. Not to mention he was hot. You had dreamed about him far too many times to count, but it wasn't like you were going to make a move anytime soon.
Miguel on the other hand was holding back so much. He wanted to press you against a wall and ravish you with kisses. He wanted to mark you as his. To make you scream his name. Miguel was ready to go all primal on you. Every time he hung out with you, he had to take care of his erection afterwards. You were just so quiet, so shy. He loved hearing your voice.
Today was going to be like any other day. Miguel had already taken care of some annoying pests and was ready to destress with you. He made his way over to your dorm, imagining the smile on your face. Right as he walked up the stairs, he heard sobbing. Those sobs belonged to you!
"(Y/N)! What's wrong?" Miguel asked.
You whimpered, rubbing your eyes as Miguel stood before you. You could see the anger on his face as he slowly approached you, taking the net off your head. He bend down and stroked your cheek before taking off some of the rope that got tangled around your arms and legs.
"I-I just...I just went to check on my mail..." You cried softly. Miguel shushed you, helping you up, "T-They just laughed."
"C'mon, let's go into your room."
Miguel took your key and opened your door. He let you in first before following and shutting the door behind. With a quick lock, he approached you once more and wiped your tears away.
"Don't cry, (Y/n)."
"But Miguel, they still think I'm a ghost." You whimpered. Miguel let out a soft sigh as he leaned forward, kissing you,
"Can I do that to a ghost?"
"N-No?"
"What about this?"
Miguel's hand stroked down your sides as he kept kissing you. You're sad whimpers turned into pleasure ones as Miguel cheered you up. His soft touch was not what you were expecting. It sent shivers up your spine. His tongue licked your lips, demanding entrance. You obeyed, allowing him to bully you for once.
Miguel liked how easily you gave in. His gaze met with yours as he slid your shorts down. His bulge making contact with your panties, grinding against you softly. He didn't want to take things too far, but who knows what will happen. Miguel watched you gasp, holding onto his arms as he moved his hips against yours.
"Can a ghost feel this?" Miguel groaned lowly, his fingers rubbing circles against your clit.
"N-No~"
"Good. I'm going to treat you right, (Y/N). I'll show those guys that they messed with the wrong person. You're my girl."
"H-Hah~ Miguel~"
You whimpered a moan as you moved your hips against his hand. Your back arched against the bed as his fingers started to pump inside your tight gummy walls. His fingers alone were stretching you out. It made your vision blur slightly as you became overwhelmed with pleasure. Each pump and curl of his fingers made the knot in your stomach tighten.
Miguel licked his lips as he took your panties off, throwing them across your room. He watched as your juices spilled over his hand once he made you cum. Your face was red with embarrassment. It was cute. Miguel took his fingers out, giving them a lick,
"Ghosts can't be this cute or red in the face," He teased.
"M-Miguel." You stuttered, trying to hide your face.
Miguel only responded with a hum as he spread your legs. You tried to protest, but gasped loudly as he flicked his tongue against your clit. You arched your back, moaning his name as Miguel held you in place. His tongue swirling around your folds, giving each part of you a taste. No ghost could taste this sweet. No ghost could moan this deliciously.
"M-Mig!"
Your cries were music to his ears. Miguel was going to make this school regret bullying you. You were his. Miguel lapped up your juices as you cam against his tongue. Your throbbing pussy was just asking to be filled, but that had to wait. Miguel had already pushed you to your limit for today.
"Rest up, (Y/n). I promise I'll make you feel even better next time, but I have to teach someone a lesson," Miguel hummed as he licked his lips. You were a panting mess against your bed,
"B-But-"
"I won't let anyone bully you again. You're my girl. Now stay here until I get back. I'm going to finish this later."
You just nodded and blushed madly as you saw his tight erection against his pants. Covering your face, you watched as Miguel left your room with his head held high. You whimpered quietly, still flustered from the orgasm he gave you,
"I'm your ghost~"
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Hope you liked the twist I did with your prompt!!
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