#one hour is such a short time but also we can do so much

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Can I please a smut with dom siren!seonghwa?

I love the concept of a siren with him,

And I mean like the mermaid type of siren.

Thank you!!

Mommy

siren!hwa x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of!

Content warnings: names (baby, my love, angel, mommy sorry not sorry he’s so mother), choking, oral (f receiving), very mild breeding kink, hwa uses his powers for sex good idk i just liked the idea lmao

Summary: your boyfriend just wants to reward you

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: bestie i’m so sorry this took so long but oooooh lord. anyways. two in a little over one week after being on hiatus? not too shabby. also decided to try something a little different with the pov so lmk what you all think! enjoy my loves! 🥰

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

I let out a soft sigh as I curled up in my chair, looking out over the water. Sitting with my knees to my chest, I sipped my tea from my favorite mug as I watched the sunset. I’d inherited my brother’s beach house, which was settled in a quaint coastal town, a few months ago and had finally gotten settled into a routine. Every evening, I’d sit on my private dock and watch the sky turn shades of orange and pink before heading inside once the moon graced me with her beauty.

After a short while, I saw the very end of a tail pop out of the water before quickly dipping back below the surface. I smiled softly and stood, placing my tea on the table. I’d always loved watching the fishes and wanted to get a closer look. I’d never seen one with such a large tail in this area. How big could this thing be?

I walked to the edge of the dock and stared out at the water, trying to spot the fish again when I saw a brief splash only a few yards away. Excited, I laid down on my stomach and dipped a hand into the water. It was coming towards me.

But what greeted me a moment later was not a massive fish. It was the face of a man. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen, in fact. And he was emerging from the water, his face mere inches from mine. His hair was slicked back and water droplets ran down face, eventually dripping from his nose and chin. His lips were full and his cheekbones were high. He had a strong brow and curious, sparkling eyes. He looked elegant. Princely. Soft.

Of course, I couldn’t help but let out a scream as I scrambled back. “What the fuck?!” I shouted as I jumped to my feet.

“Who are you?” He tilted his head as he reached for the edge of the dock.

“Who am I? Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Seonghwa. I’ve seen you here before. Who are you? Where is the man who lives here?” My heart sank at his question and I frowned.

“I’m y/n. That man was my brother. He died and left me the house.” I said quietly, looking out at the horizon. “How did you know him?”

“He died?” The man, Seonghwa, looked alarmed as he started to hoist himself out of the water with wide eyes. “How? When? He said he’d come back.” He sounded frantic. Panicked.

“He was sick. It’s been about six months now.” I paused, crossing my arms over my chest. “But you didn’t answer my question. How did you know my brother?”

He paused when he was halfway out of the water and I noticed something shimmering on his body, a few inches below his belly button. “He was a friend. He saved me and in return I gave him company. We spent much time here on the dock.”

“He never mentioned that…” I said warily, backing away a few steps.

“I asked him to keep my existence a secret.”

“Why?”

“You remind me of him.” He suddenly changed the subject with a dazzling smile that left me breathless. Was my mind playing tricks on me or were his teeth just a bit too sharp to seem human? “He was just as guarded the first time we met. He saved me but then interrogated me for hours. I was a captive audience as I was injured but the conversation grew lighthearted once he was satisfied with my answers. He asked many questions. You do too.”

“It’s only natural to ask questions when a strange man emerges from the water and says he knew my late brother.” I rolled my eyes, fighting not to grin. The situation was bizarre not to laugh.

“You seem to have the same temperament as him too.” He hummed, seemingly deciding on something. “I can trust you then. But you have to keep my secret.” And with that, he jumped out of the water. I expected the secret to be that he was a local who went skinny dipping for shits and giggles but I stood in stunned silence when I saw a shimmering blue-green tail. The same tail I’d seen splash out of the water only a few minutes prior. He had fins on his forearms that I hadn’t noticed before and one running down his upper back that stopped halfway down his spine as well, all of them the same deep teal as his tail. His beauty was terrifying and would surely haunt me for a long while. Maybe even the rest of my life.

“Y-you…you- what the FUCK?!”

“Shh!” He brought a finger to his lips and I clamped my mouth shut, looking around to make sure none of my neighbors were outside. Their houses were quite a ways away since each house had a private dock with space for a mid-sized boat but I was certain I was loud enough to draw attention to myself. “You can’t tell anyone about this. They’ll hunt me down and torture me in the name of science.”

I nodded, dumbfounded as he transformed before my eyes. Within minutes, his tail was replaced with a pair of legs and he stood before me as any other human man.

And he was stark naked.

He was stunning. Slender, toned, and tan. His shoulders were a bit wider than his hips, which were narrow and led to a pair of long legs. my eyes trailed back up his legs, tempted to take in every part of his body, and I realized I was gawking.

I quickly looked away and cleared my throat awkwardly. “Um…would you like to come in? I still have some of my brother’s clothes, I’m sure something will fit.”

He nodded and started for my house, leaving me standing alone on the dock, dumbfounded by what was going on and admiring his ass. My big brother was friends with a fucking merman and never told me?! I rushed to catch up to him, grabbing my now-cold cup of tea as I chased after him. By the time I caught up, he was reaching for my door.

Once we were both inside, I turned towards him, once again forcing myself to make eye contact and not stare at his perfect body. “Just…wait here. I’ll be right back.” I instructed before scurrying off to one of the spare rooms where I kept my brother’s belongings.

“You changed things.” I heard him say and puffed out a sigh.

“Yeah. It was hard moving in and seeing all his things.” I explained, hearing his footsteps as he wandered around the living room. “I kept everything, I just put it all away.” I finally found the box of clothes and rummaged around until I found a pair of sweats and a loose tank top. I rejoined him and held out the clothes, looking anywhere but at him. “Here. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiled again as he reached for the clothes and my heart raced. Something about him was drawing me in. He was intoxicating. “You're much prettier than him.” He said after a few moments of staring at me, finally taking the clothes and making his way towards the bathroom to get dressed as if I hadn’t just seen every inch of him.

“Um…thanks?” I stared after him, entirely bewildered at the turn the evening had taken.

————————————————

I let out a soft sigh as my fingertips danced over the scales that reached up his lower back. That night had been the beginning of my romance with Seonghwa, who was now a fixture in my life. The two of us had spent hours talking about my late brother, sharing stories and fighting back tears. He’d held me until I fell asleep and I woke up the next morning to the clothes folded neatly on the end of the sofa and a note on top, scrawled in beautifully messy handwriting. See you soon.

“You're staring again.”

“Hmm?” I lifted my head from my arm and offered a sheepish grin. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to. Just thinking.”

“About what?” He asked, shuddering as my fingertips ghosted over a particularly sensitive spot just above the fin that ran down the back of his tail.

“The night we met.” I hummed, laying my head back down with a tiny smile. “Beautiful.” I whispered, touching the same spot as before. I knew he liked it.

He smiled softly and pulled himself up on the dock, kissing my forehead. “It was the best night of my life.” He responded, opting not to address my comment.

“Mine too.” I whispered, closing my eyes at his touch. I opened my eyes a moment later and looked up at him. “Do you want to come in? It’s getting kind of cool out here.”

When he nodded, I got up and backed away, leaving space for him to get on the dock while I grabbed the clothes I’d picked for him. It had become routine for me to meet him at the dock with an outfit and watch the sunset before inviting him in. He usually stayed the night with me and then went back to the water during the day when I had to work.

I watched in awe as he transformed before my eyes. It was a mildly unsettling sight but I could never manage to tear my eyes away, always intrigued. He didn’t look bothered despite how uncomfortable the transformation appeared. He’d explained early on, with mild indignance, that he was a siren, not a merman like I’d originally thought, and told me how his magic worked. It was kind of confusing but the main points were that changing forms didn’t hurt him and that his power wasn’t simply used to lure sailors to their deaths, like most fantasy books said. In fact, he’d used his charms to lull me to sleep the night we met after seeing my grief over my brother.

Once he was dressed, we walked up the dock towards my house. His arms were around my waist the moment I closed the door. “You look so beautiful tonight, my love.” He murmured, pulling I against him.

“So do you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

He leaned down and caught my lips in a gentle kiss, bringing one hand to the back of my head. I shivered when his fingers tangled in my hair and gave a gentle tug. After two years, he knew exactly how to manipulate my body and heat pooled between my legs as he nipped at my bottom lip. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he ignited such need in me.

I dragged my hands down his chest and inched my fingers under his shirt, whining softly when he pulled back. “Let’s go to the bedroom, darling.” His voice took on that tone I knew all too well and I quickly followed his instructions, knowing it was best to follow his orders.

When I reached my room, he sat on the bed and motioned for me to stand between his legs. I complied, smiling to myself when he slipped his hands under my shirt and lifted it over my head. He frowned at the sight of my bra and I laughed. “Don’t worry, it has a zipper.”

“Good. I fucking hate fighting with those hooks. They’re so finicky.” He huffed and for a moment I saw his cute, childish side. As soon as he noticed my adoring expression, however, he gathered himself and wrapped his arms around me. “My beautiful girl…” he whispered as he pressed his lips to my stomach.

I shivered at his tone as my hands moved to rest on his shoulders, goosebumps appearing on my skin at his touch. I didn’t speak as his tongue darted out to tease me, biting back a pathetic noise when he slipped a hand between my legs and touched me through my shorts. His touch was gentle, further cementing my thoughts on his elegance. He could never be rough with me unless I begged, despite possessing the inhuman physical abilities that all sirens had. I was too precious to him. Too fragile.

“Tell me, my love, what do you want? You’ve been such a good girl lately, I think you deserve a treat.” His voice took on that mind-numbingly sweet tone and I felt myself growing dizzy as a fresh wave of arousal washed over me.

“I want you, Hwa.” I whimpered, grinding down against his fingers.

“Hwa?” He paused, looking up at me. I froze on the spot. I knew what he wanted me to call him, what I secretly wanted to call him, but I was always too shy to do it unprompted. “Is that my name, baby?”

“No…” I bit my lip and fought hard to maintain eye contact.

“Say my name then.” His eyes seemed to grow dark for a brief moment and warmth flooded my chest as my stomach did a somersault. He was using his magic on me.

“M-mommy…” I whined softly, cheeks going a soft pink.

“Good girl.” He cooed and applied more pressure to my clothed core as he continued. “Now, tell me again what it is that you want.”

“I want you, mommy. Please?” I begged despite my embarrassment as his magic compelled me to do the tasks I was too shy to do without his…encouragement.

The noise he let out made my head spin and I clenched around nothing, my panties sticking uncomfortably to my folds. “My good girl even used her manners.” His tone was almost taunting as he pulled me onto his lap.

I stifled a small noise and settled on his thighs with no hesitation as his long fingers teased my hips. The skin just above my waistband once more erupted in goosebumps at his featherlight touch and I shivered. “Of course I did, mommy. I wanna be good for you.” I murmured, waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

He chuckled softly and nodded, hands sliding to squeeze my ass. “You always are, baby.” He assured me, leaning up to peck my lips.

The peck turned into a fiery kiss when I looped my arms around his neck and wiggled in his lap in an adorable attempt to grind on him. He was hard beneath my ass and I wanted to feel him. He made a sound in the back of his throat as he laid back and flipped us both over to pin me to the mattress. He immediately rolled his hips against mine and I gasped against his lips.

He broke the kiss and moved to trail his lips along my neck, sucking and biting occasionally. Each nip had I arching into him as heat pooled in my belly. “Mommy, please-” I gasped, gently tugging at his hair as his lips moved lower.

His elegant fingers tugged at the zipper of my bra, freeing my breasts in a matter of seconds. He pulled back just a bit to admire me and I saw his eyes darken with lust. He wasted no time in latching onto my left nipple, tongue swirling around the stiff peak. I let out a soft cry when I felt his teeth scrape over my skin and he promptly switched sides, focusing on my right breast.

Much to my dismay, he didn’t spend much time on my chest, opting instead to work his way lower. His lips ghosted over the spot he’d been teasing before pulling me to his lap and I sighed, eyes slipping shut. I lifted my hips when his fingers hooked in my waistband and bit my lip as my shorts and panties traveled down my legs.

After tossing my clothes aside, Seonghwa guided my legs apart and made an appreciative noise deep in his chest. “My beautiful girl…you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you?” I nodded immediately and he smirked. “But first, you're gonna let mommy suck on that pretty pussy, right, my love?”

“Yes, mommy.” I whimpered, clenching around nothing. It was almost embarrassing how wet I was when he’d barely done anything. Almost.

“Good girl.” I moaned weakly at the name and he chuckled softly. “You always respond so well to that name.” He cooed as he leaned down. He kissed my belly while his hands guided my legs to his shoulders, tongue circling my navel like he knew I liked.

“Tickles…” I whispered and bit my lip, lifting my head to watch as he brought his mouth a breath away from my aching cunt. He didn’t immediately dive in and I wanted to scream but managed to keep my composure as he blew on me.

He ran a single finger through my folds and I felt my body grow weak. Keeping my head up so I could look at him was becoming a chore as he finally pressed a chaste kiss to my clit. I felt dizzy from the simple touch. “Mommy, please…” I whimpered, fighting the urge to grab a fistful of his silky black hair and drag him into me.

My plea seemed to be the only thing he needed because a moment later he sucked my clit into his mouth and a low growl rumbled in his chest at my resulting moan. One thing I loved about Seonghwa was just how enthusiastic he was to go down on me. He ate pussy like a madman and always made sure to finish me off before we even got to the actual fucking. I could live with his head between my legs.

The fight to keep my head up was lost and I found myself staring at the ceiling, my eyes slipping shut a moment later as a long, slender finger entered me. “Mommy…” I mewled, my hands moving to my chest. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” He groaned against me and my hips bucked of their own accord. He brought an arm up and slung it across my hips, pinning me to the bed. “Don’t move, angel. Let me enjoy my meal.”

“Sorry, mommy.” I bit my lip as I tugged at my nipple, my back arching slightly when he curled his finger. “Oh-” I gasped.

He didn’t say a word as he added another finger and quickly curled them to reach that same spot that had my whole body burning. He licked and sucked until my legs trembled on either side of his head. He made a small appreciative sound against me and the vibrations damn near made me squeal.

Then he pulled back and I was about to pout when he added a third finger. He curled them instantly and his pace became rough and my back bowed off the bed. “Oh my god!” I cried out, quickly bringing my hand to my mouth. I didn’t mean to muffle my sounds, I just needed something to sink my teeth into and my knuckles were perfect for the job.

He kept his pace and the coil in the pit of my belly wound tighter. He leaned back in and pressed a soft kiss to my clit and it felt like lightning struck my body. My hips jerked at the contact but his arm kept me in place and I felt him smirk against me.

Eyes now watery, I looked down at him and found him staring back at me. His eyes darkened once more as he watched me fall apart and simply muttered a few words in a language I now recognized as his mother tongue, his voice sending vibrations through my pussy. Instantly, warmth was blooming in my chest and I found myself whimpering behind my hand as an intense pleasure filled my body.

He knew how much I loved when he used his power to intensify my pleasure and helped me along quite often.

My orgasm hit me like a truck, steamrolling me as he lapped at my pussy. He kept his pace even as I began to writhe, his eyes glinting with mischief. A second orgasm approached and just as I was about to come undone, he pulled back. I let out a disapproving whine but didn’t argue further. Instead, I started to sit up.

“Can I-”

“Did I say you could get up?” Immediately I sank back down against the sheets. “Don’t move.” His eyes flashed. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, though the warmth spreading in my chest made any desire to disobey flee my body entirely. He’d pinned me to the bed with a simple glare and I watched helplessly as he undressed himself, my palms itching to help him.

My mouth watered when his cock sprung free from the confines of his shorts and he took a step toward me. “I’m gonna fuck this tight little pussy and you’re gonna fall apart on my cock, understood? I’m not stopping until I hear you begging for mercy.”

I clenched around nothing and nodded eagerly. I loved when he got like this. When he was so worked up that my reward turned into him simply ravaging me. I wanted him and he was damn sure going to give me what I wanted until I couldn’t take any more.

He lined up and urged my knees toward my chest, sheathing himself inside me in one fluid motion. The fullness I felt in that moment was one of my favorite things. He always fit so perfectly inside me, filling every inch of my pussy like it was made for him.

“Shit, baby…” His groan made me tense in anticipation. Every time he cursed like that, he gave it to me hard, just the way I liked it. He was careful with me, of course. I was his fragile little human. But he knew I preferred him fucking me furiously over taking me slowly and he gave it to me as a reward.

He also punished me that way but that was a story for another time.

“Mommy-” My breath hitched on the first thrust and my eyelids fluttered as his hand found my throat.

His pace was brutal, the sound of skin slapping filling the room in record time. He was precise with each thrust and my eyes rolled back when he gave my throat a gentle squeeze. Molten lava filled my veins as my vision swam.

He let up quickly, having long since learned my limits, and leaned down to crash his lips to mine. His taste mingled with my juices in the most intoxicating way and I let out another small whimper.

The coil in my belly was back and more intense than before as he reached a part of me that had stars dotting my vision. “Oh fuck- there!” I cried, the sound muffled by his lips. He drank up the sound with a low groan and slammed into me harder, determined to make me fall apart before he did.

It didn’t take him very long to accomplish that. Not even a minute after I had the thought that I wouldn’t last much longer, my orgasm washed over me. I swear the edges of my vision blurred with the force of it. A scream ripped from my throat as he continued to fuck me through my orgasm, showing no signs of letting up any time soon.

“That’s a good girl. Just like that.” He praised, pulling back just enough to watch me writhe beneath him. “You look so beautiful when you cum all over my cock, angel.”

Warmth flooded my chest again and I let out another cry as a third orgasm slammed into me, Seonghwa’s magic holding me captive as it settled deep in my belly. He was doing this on purpose of course. He wanted to make sure I was sated. He always did.

“Look at me.” He demanded. I did. I couldn’t look away. He was stunning like this. He looked powerful on top of me.

When I felt a fourth orgasm building, tears filled my eyes and I begged for mercy. “Mommy, please- too much-” The words came out as a broken sob of pleasure.

“You can take one last one for me, can’t you, my love?” I nodded frantically, knowing he’d give me a break after I’d cum a fourth time. “Good girl. That’s what I thought.” He grunted as sweat dripped from his chin and landed between my breasts. “Fuck, baby. You look so perfect right now. Just wanna fill you up with my cum and watch you try not to waste a single drop. Wanna breed that perfect pussy and give you a baby.”

“Please!” I sobbed, nodding furiously. I needed that. Needed him to fill me to the brim and make it so blindingly obvious who I belonged to.

“Yeah? You want that?” I nodded again as my orgasm barreled towards me. “Then cum for me, angel. One last time and I’ll give you every last drop.”

I let go, my back bowing off the bed as my whole body shuddered with delight. The sensation was so strong it made my toes curl and my watery eyes roll back as I let out one final cry. I bet I looked possessed with the way my body spasmed.

With a final curse, Seonghwa let go and spilled inside me, his thrusts becoming sloppy and losing rhythm as his high crashed over him. He only stopped when I let out a pathetic whimper, my body aching from all the pleasure he’d given me. Slowly, he pulled out and I whimpered when I felt his cum begin to leak out of me.

“You’re wasting it.” He teased as he laid down beside me, throwing a strong arm over my waist. “Are you okay, my love?”

“I couldn’t be better.” I smiled as I rolled over to face him, eyes already drooping. “I love you, Hwa.”

“I love you too. So fucking much.” He whispered. His words were the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep in his protective embrace.

#kpop smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #alura’s works

[katuschka]

Olalla – Chapter 01

Josh Kiszka x female OC, Jake Kiszka 4.965 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, talking about death, anxiety, alcohol consumption

Taglist

I had a dream that the sky above the mountains darkened, but it was just my beloved’s darkening eyes. 

I had a dream there was a lightning brightening the skies above those hills, but it was just my beloved’s cheeks that lightened. 

I had a dream in which I saw storm clouds approaching, but it was just a boy making love to his beloved. (I Had a Dream, Čechomor)

It was true that Jake and Josh had seen the world, but their trips and explorations were always restricted by time. Everything was scheduled, planned and adjusted to fit the itinerary. Wherever they went, it was – first and foremost – a “business trip”. Sometimes they had days in between shows, oftentimes just hours. Be there on time. We don’t have enough time. You can visit only one of those galleries this time. Maybe next time... They were now rapidly approaching thirty, but haven’t yet experienced the simple joy of backpacking with all its perks and benefits. Freedom being probably the most important of them. 

So, when the last show ended and it was time to fly back home, they decided to stay behind for a little while. It was a spontaneous decision, made in Josh’s hotel room after having had one too many beverages with several other people, none of whom shared their enthusiasm. Everyone just wanted to go home. They say there’s nothing like home and it’s true that there had been times when it meant something to the two of them as well, even after months spent away from it. But right now, their beds back home were cold and empty – a sad consequence, as well as a memento, of the lives they’d lived and the things they’d done. Could it have been prevented? Maybe, but what is past is past. It was the present that could and should be taken care of, and there was still the future to be shaped. 

Even though the others tried to talk sense into them and nearly succeeded, by 4 am, the two of them finally made up their minds that it was time to really choose the road. “Time to write my own fucking screenplay,” Josh said. After a short nap, they repacked the essentials, said their goodbyes and hopped the train that was supposed to take them to all those yet to be discovered places. 

Because it was summertime, last-minute accommodation options were pretty limited in larger cities. That only made it even more exciting, though, and turned out to be quite beneficial in the end. More often than not, they had to share a room that only had one king size bed. Not only they didn’t mind, it seemed as the most natural thing to do, and they welcomed it. Sightseeing or hiking during daylight hours, they didn’t want to part and disappear in their separate dens in the evening, like they did on tour. Touring – with all the rush and stress and boredom – often made them feel lonely. 

They knew they had been hurting, they were well aware of the reasons why, but there had not been enough time to come clean about it. So, now, their late night talks often ended with at least one of them crying as the reminiscences of the people who no longer wanted to be part of their lives turned into shared melancholy. 

Sharing…that’s what the trip turned out to be really about. Two brothers who once shared a womb, who later forged their mutual dreams about healing humankind through art into their shared destiny. Now they opened up to each other about how much they feared loneliness and lack of love. And it was a shared fear, too. It wouldn't be fair to say that there wasn’t enough love or affection in their lives, on the contrary. They were showered with it in great abundance. Their parents, siblings, other family members and all their numerous friends all loved them dearly and unconditionally, simply because they existed. The plentitude of it, including their mutual love for each other, shaped their personalities and nurtured their souls as they grew up. 

That’s how they learned about the importance of love. They knew very well how lucky they were. Forever grateful, they wanted to share it and to pass it on…and then they were told that they didn’t. The reality hit them in their faces like a freight train loaded with reproach.

That’s how they found themselves mourning the kind of love they thought they failed to provide, the one they thought they consequently didn’t deserve. Once they conceded this to each other, they had to face the fact that they felt ashamed. They also had to admit that their own broken hearts still hurt, the raw and barely healed wounds opening up again during those midnight talks. A few times they fell asleep in a comforting embrace. 

Wawel Castle, Krakow 

“I think we should head back to the hotel.” 

When Jake came back from the bathroom, Josh was still leaning over the railings, looking down at the river bend just below the high stone outer wall. He felt so much at peace up here, the fragrant summer air saturated with the scent of trees, damp stone, vanilla ice cream – as well as sudden whiff of ozone – filling his nostrils. They weren’t alone here. The courtyard was still full of people at this time of day, but the humidity muffled all the conversations as well as shrieking kids that were running around, and turned it all into a pleasant hum. It all felt almost dreamlike. Somewhere in the distance, less than a hundred miles further south, were the mountains…

Their adventure was nearing the end, it was their time to fly home the next day. It had rained heavily that morning and the forecast for the whole day promised volatile weather as the fronts collided, but that didn’t stop them. There were still a few places in Krakow which particularly Josh wanted to visit. Not really in a hurry, they went out for early lunch; later they were just idling around in the old town, eating pretzels and doughnuts, drunk on wine. It was almost 5 pm now. 

“You're probably right,” Josh finally replied, looking at the sky with a frown, “but I’d really love to stay here a little longer.” 

Jake didn’t say anything, just nodded. They stood next to each other for another ten minutes, overlooking the southern part of the city as well as ominous clouds that had formed near the horizon and were now slowly approaching. The wind was rising, playing with their hair, tossing the strands wildly from side to side. They should have been running for shelter by now, but the fresh breeze made them feel completely and utterly reckless. Jake started humming a familiar tune and Josh quickly chimed in: “But the fool on the hill sees the Sun going down

And the eyes in his head see the world spinning 'round…” …and they bursted out laughing like two madmen as the other people around them scrambled in their feet, looking for a place to hide, girls squeaking as the first raindrops hit the ground.

Now they were running too, heading back to the Old Town, passing crowded restaurants and pubs that didn’t appeal to them anyway. People were running around like ants and the storm clouds and the heavy rain quickly covered the streets in a blanket of semi-darkness. Soon they no longer knew where they were headed. They obviously missed a turn back to the main square and not much later found themselves on a much more quiet and nearly abandoned street that probably wasn’t on a tourist map. The storm hit in full force. 

“Not a fucking thunder,” Jake groaned. They were both already absolutely drenched. Trying to find their way back to the hotel in the pouring rain now proved completely futile as they were probably at least a mile away from it anyway, and being no longer in the area of fancy cafés and parfumeries, looking for shelter of any kind wasn’t that easy anymore, either. A small – and already closed –  grocery shop here, a tenement doorway there…finally they spotted a pub that looked promising. Both of them craved a beer anyway. 

The pub was pretty cozy and warm. It was actually more like a café, only situated below the street level, in the cellar of the building. They sat in silence for a while, but Josh was becoming increasingly restless with each minute, chewing his lip and tapping his fingers on the table. “Ok, what’s going on,” Jake finally asked. 

“I’m staying.”

When it was met with a half-confused, half-annoyed stare, he continued. “I mean, just for two more weeks. I’d like to go hiking.”

The confusion was gone. Jake was just annoyed now. “Explain. Where? Why?”

“The Tatras. A guy told me the other day… You were still asleep, so I went out to have some breakfast. You know, Krishna bistro across the street… The place was already crowded by 9 am so these two guys joined me at my table. They just came from their hiking trip down there and showed me some pictures.They called the place ‘miniature Alps’, so you can’t get lost,” he laughed nervously. “It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, see? But I feel I need it.”  

Jake needed a moment to decompress. This whole trip had been a “spur-of-the-moment thing”...and they did it together. They had also agreed that it was exactly what they needed, so what the fuck is this bullshit? Josh sensed the impending question even before Jake formed the words in his head. 

“You still have some work you need to finish before the start or the next leg…but I don’t. That’s why I didn’t tell you before. You’d just try to convince me to go home with you. I know it’s a long flight…I’m sorry Jake, but I really need to do this. For once in my life.”

“It’s insane Josh. And probably dangerous. And it’s mid-season. You probably won’t even find free lodgings. Then what?”

“I already booked it. The guy gave me a tip. Jake…don’t be mad. You know it’s irrational. We’re adults.”

Jake was angry. But he had to agree that it was irrational. They drowned the irrationality in a few more beers and so it happened that the next day, their ways parted. Jake boarded the plane headed for Gatwick while Josh took the train south. 

Jake

London, 12:15 pm

The weather improved considerably since yesterday, but I still couldn’t shake off the sense of impending doom. At first I thought that it was just the anxiety I often felt when flying, this time multiplied by the fact that I was completely alone thousands of miles away from home and wouldn’t even get there sooner than the next morning, at the very best. Only to be greeted by my housekeeper, if I were lucky. Then I remembered that since there was no one else there, she also only came on Mondays every other week while I was away, to do the most necessary tasks like making sure that the house wouldn’t be buried under a layer of gray dust when I came back. 

However, I landed in London about half an hour ago, downed a beer, had a smoke, but the unpleasant feeling that something bad was about to happen still lingered. I couldn’t put my finger on it, all I knew was that I already missed Josh. 

It was completely irrational. We were adults. I had no right to be angry that he stayed behind, but I was. We spent more time together in the last two weeks than we had in over a year. I mean really together, not just next to each other. It was supposed to be our trip, the purpose of which, among other things, was to shake off the growing feeling of loneliness that comes with this lifestyle. So, me being annoyed with him now was perhaps understandable. But anxious? As I said, I hate flying. Having to fly alone sucks and I was about to board a transcontinental plane later that afternoon. I finally convinced myself that anxiety was also understandable. Nothing to be ashamed of…I guess. Still, something seemed off. 

Agnieszka

Zakopane, 5:40 am

I checked the weather app again. Yes, definitely a perfect day for a hike. The sky was perfectly clear after yesterday’s storm and the air coming through the open window felt crisp and fresh. With a bit of luck, it would stay that way well until early afternoon, although one could never be sure here.  

That’s what I both love and hate about the mountains. Even now, at the age of total control over everything, the mountains are unpredictable, uncontrollable and untamed. Even if we destroyed all the life they harbour, bare and stony valleys would still kill you even more easily if you were bold and arrogant enough to venture too far. Many people come here to conquer the mountain. That’s why we hear the sound of rescue helicopters a few times a week. 

Have you ever smelled wet granite? I don’t mean cobblestones or granite walls, but the rough stone, spewed out to the surface of the earth by the untamed power of this planet, broken and twisted with the forces of nature like plasticine…even though a small piece could easily break your skull. There are places here where jagged rock towers a kilometer over your head. When the clouds hang low, try just standing at the bottom of a glacial cirque, surrounded by numerous peaks. It’s a deeply humbling experience. The place literally breathes. You can hear it sing its ominous song and its cold breath can chill you to the bone. These places are indescribably majestic and beautiful…and also scary when you experience the power firsthand. 

Dominik was never scared. He loved the mountains very much, but he had lost all his humbleness. This place does not forgive such folly. He fell 500 meters and was probably dead even before his body hit the ground. It took them three more hours to find him. By that time he was already half buried under fresh white snow. They couldn’t save him. It happened in one of those gorgeous, scary places and I never saw him again. I burned my white dress that day. 

But that was more than 6 years ago…and I’m still here, taking care of pretty alpinists who come and go, but never stay. Fucking them is convenient. Sometimes, the sensation left by their warm skin pressed against mine lingers longer than I’d deem comfortable and safe, but no one broke my heart again. Mom keeps telling me that my decision to never marry after what happened is breaking hers. She prays for me every Sunday, but she never understood. My father is like a domesticated chamois. A former mountaineer, tamed by a local beauty. Now he spends more time chopping wood and fixing old pipes. He says his knees hurt, but I know he’s happy down here with her. I like men who are just as wild as the wolves running over these hills, but to actually love them is a slow and painful suicide. I barely recovered from the first one. The next would also be the last. 

My dad has been a caretaker of Villa Eulalia for as long as I remember, and even before. I grew up here, surrounded by wild nature and the people who tried to monetize it. Later, my parents bought the building and Eulalia became our family business. It’s much more than that, though. It’s home. Surrounded by new, modern and luxurious hotels owned by townspeople who don’t know this place at all, we’re old residents who offer shelter to those searching for peace here. 

There are generally two kinds of people who come to Zakopane: vacationers and explorers. We don’t offer nice views, jacuzzis and sparkling wine. We will – however – make you breakfast at 5 am.. Whether you want to explore the hiking trails that belong to all or hidden places in your mind that are your own, we are your people. We are the same. 

I couldn’t imagine my life to be any different. I had been climbing these hills since I’d learned to walk. I went to Krakow to get my master’s degree in tourism management, I travelled a bit, made some new friends and even considered some other life options for a while, but I came back eventually. I missed the fresh air and the soapy smell of mountain grass. I needed to be here. 

I was also needed here. With my parents getting older and my younger sister having a family of her own in her cozy city home, I became a maid, a receptionist, a cook, a webmaster and an occasional mountain guide. My parents don’t speak English. Well, not much, anyway. They know a few phrases, so they can greet our visitors and ask them about their day, secretly praying that they wouldn’t really want to answer those questions. Most of them don’t…unless they’re young and handsome. Those talk to me, though. 

We didn’t have any foreign visitors at first, but later they slowly started coming. It was my sister’s job to take care of them at first, with me being away most of the time back then. But later, with three young kids, she couldn’t – and no longer wanted to – keep doing that any longer. So I came back and took over. 

In August, the holiday season is in full swing. I didn’t have a day off since early July and really needed to get out and clear my mind a bit. I can’t stay in town all summer, not when the paradise is literally just a few steps away. This morning seemed like a perfect opportunity. There were no planned checkouts for today, I already managed to get all the rooms for all the new expected guests cleaned and ready the day before and most of them were locals, with one Slovak family arriving later in the afternoon. Dad should be able to take care of that. 

While I was sipping my morning coffee, I checked the mailbox one last time just to be sure everything would be taken care of while I was away, only to discover there were two new last minute reservations. Kováčová…some Slovak lady with two more people who wouldn’t arrive until later in the afternoon, room 8. That one’s also ready. I vacuum-cleaned it two days ago. So, that should be OK. Aaand, the attic room for…some Kiszka. Perfect. I took one last sip, grabbed my backpack and was ready to go. 

Agnieszka wasn’t in a hurry, knowing too well that her muscles would hurt like hell the next day if she didn’t take it easy. She was fit enough to set a much faster pace, but this was not a workout. Not today. In mid august, the former sheep pastures in Hala Gasienicowa were in full bloom and covered in violet. It was also a rather steep route that led there so even though she reached the place at half past nine, she could already feel a familiar burning sensation in her calves. 

This was a perfect place for late breakfast. Yesterday’s wind was gone and once she got past the tree line, the sun was already high up in the sky, warming her skin enough to let her shed all the unnecessary layers of clothing. “Bathing in the breeze” was her favourite pastime. There was no better way to describe it. It was also still early enough to be able to enjoy the calmness of this place, which would be buzzing with life only an hour or so later as more people arrived. 

It was already past noon when she reached the borderline ridge at a beautiful spot called “Lily Saddle” that separated High and Western Tatras – her final destination for the day. Most people aim for peaks, but she always loved mountain saddles and ridge routes. Reaching them wasn’t easy. You always had to overcome steep, rocky and often exposed tracks to get there. By the time you reached the saddle, you were high on endorphins and adrenaline, your whole body overheated from exertion, only to be greeted by icy wind that kept rumbling up there even during the hottest days of the year, sometimes tossing you from side to side like a rag doll. It was like falling in love…

She usually felt at peace here, even when she had to literally wrestle with the element. Not today. Today, she felt agitated. It started further down the road and intensified exponentially as she reached the saddle. She contemplated going further west along the ridge to calm her nerves a bit, when her telephone rang. It took her a while to find it in her bag, but the caller seemed super determined. 

“Dad?”

“Neszka, where are you? An American just arrived… Apparently, he’s got a reservation. I need to house him.”

That must have been a mistake, she went through the reservations. Someone probably arrived at the wrong hotel. There were several of them called Villa Something Something in Zakopane… 

“Daddy, that’s impossible. I double checked. We’re expecting a small German group on Saturday, but otherwise no foreign guests.”

��I’m not making this up. He’s here in front of me and I see him in our reservation system as well.”

“Name?”

“Joshua Kiszka.” 

Fuck… That was probably why she felt so uneasy? Never underestimate your gut. Her subconsciousness knew she fucked up. 

“Ok, get him on the phone.” She took a deep breath, expecting an outpouring of anger, the person on the other side berating her and demanding an explanation. Some people had the weirdest reasons for complaints and refund reasons, and this situation clearly was her fault. 

Instead, the voice belonging to a young man sounded amused. He, too, tried to explain the situation he found himself in, even though there was no need for him to explain anything. With the wind gushing and roaring around and the service being shitty up here, she couldn’t even hear him properly, so – after what she hoped was the most heartfelt apology she could deliver – she tried to make it as brief as possible. 

“Ok, listen, my father – that’s the man you tried to talk to – my dad will show you your room. Just…. make yourself comfortable, there’s a large garden behind the villa and free beverages in the fridge outside your room… You will find it with ease… And I’ll be there in three hours at the very worst. Then I’ll show you around and will tell you everything you need to know.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t slept much at night so I’ll probably just take a nap. All I need is a bed to lie on…if it’s ready,” he chuckled again.

Fuck. With that, she took a few big gulps of water and started descending. 

It was past four in the afternoon when she got back home, hot and sweating and out of breath, but the shower could wait. She stopped briefly by the kitchen to ask dad how well it went and then headed straight to the attic floor, taking stairs two at a time. She knocked on the door and…nothing. She had to repeat it two more times – at least it gave her the opportunity to catch her breath – before the door finally creaked open. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry I kept you waiti…oh!”

The man who answered the door was unlike anything she had expected. He was approximately the same height as her, slender, not overly muscular but still well toned. She could tell quite easily, because he was in fact naked from the waist up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and smiling at her while still trying to shake off the post nap confusion. 

She didn’t realize that she was staring until he spoke, and took a few steps back inside the room, basically letting her in. “Uh, oh, sorry, it’s a bit hot here under the roof, he chuckled again as he picked up a basic t-shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. “And you must be the charming lady I spoke to on the phone earlier?” 

He looked like someone straight from DaVinci’s painting…if DaVinci lived in some arty, boho community instead of a 15th century Milan: fine features, rosy cheeks, kind yet mysterious eyes, plump lips and soft curls with trimmed sides and a messy braid that ended between his shoulder blades, decorated with a tiny shell. 

“Uuuh, yeah, yes, that’s me. I tried to get here as soon as possible, but it took longer than I expected and…”

“Please, don’t apologize. I see you went hiking. So cool! It must have been absolutely fabulous up there today. You must certainly give me some tips. Where to go, what to see... I heard how beautiful it is here. Saw some pictures too. But I’ve never been here, so I absolutely don’t know what to expect. I will need to buy some clothes and other essentials as well, this was a last minute decision. I helped myself to a beverage from that fridge, by the way. I hope it’s ok. I had peach iced tea…,” he kept on rambling as he tried to clean up the room that already looked lived-in even though he had been here for only a few hours. 

She watched him, completely bewildered. But she already liked him. He was cute and wild and kind of sexy. Strange, but with a pretty face. Two weeks. He’s alone…yeah, and you’re sweaty, red faced and you stink, you idiot!

“…me around?” 

She realized he was still talking, when put her back to earth. “What?” That chuckle again…

“You told me you’d show me around. I got my key, I know where the drinks are, I saw the garden, it’s fanTAStic, by the way…so, what else do I need to know?” he asked cheekily. 

That put her back into her professional mode. She explained that she wouldn’t clean the room more that once a week unless he would specifically ask her to do so, privacy being held in high regard here…; she showed him where to find extra toilet paper and fresh towels, where to throw the dirty ones; she showed him the kitchen he had to share with several other rooms, told him about free tea and coffee and that he shouldn’t bother with washing the dishes, he should just leave them in the sink and she would take care of it. She also told him where to buy everything he needed and she had to bite her lip a few times when he absentmindedly touched her arm. 

Later in the early evening, Agnieszka still couldn't shake off that unfamiliar restlessness she felt back up on the ridge. It lay heavy on her chest, compressing her lungs. She tried to read, but it was no use. Reading was a distraction fit for dark and rainy evenings, but the cloudless sky didn’t want the night to take over just yet. Even here, among steep hills where the sun sets early, the skies were still ultramarine blue and… vast. 

The warm light on her bedside table wasn’t enough to disperse the magic of the blue hour. Instead of trying to reread the same paragraph for the third time, she put the book down and opened the window to let the cool and fragrant air in. 

As soon as the scent of pines and freshly mown grass hit her nostrils, she also heard a soft hum coming from below. Looking down, she saw him sitting on a wooden garden table, with his feet on the bench. He had his back to her, sipping beer, his fingers rapping on the withered wood. He was also the source of that slow melody. 

It reminded her of Dominik. He used to sit by the fireside, farther back in the garden. His guitar was often out of tune and people made fun of him, but he always just smiled and continued to play. It often baffled her that he didn’t mind, because it sounded awful, and he must have heard it. The man could sing! 

Apparently, so could Joshua, but it was something completely different. Dominik’s voice was low and thick, and when he hummed her favourite songs, such as Sad Eyes, it often made her drowsy. Joshua sounded like the girls singing old local folk songs about dying from a broken heart. She had never heard anything like that. He sang silently, as he obviously did not want to disturb the calmness of dusk, as well as other guests behind their own open windows. Yet it made her heart flutter in her throat. 

She watched, entranced, how his breath animated the muscles of his lean back, covered only in sheer white cotton in spite of the air getting increasingly chillier with every passing minute. 

Agnieszka tried to lean out the window a bit more, which made the shutter crash against the wall, causing him to look her way. She panicked and ducked under the sill. Realizing how childish it must have appeared, she slowly straightened and saw him still looking in her direction, smiling. He gestured to the second can of beer standing on the table next to him and silently motioned her to join him. 

She took a deep breath and nodded. She grabbed her cardigan, closed the window and went out to join him, oblivious to the fact that the way down the stairs and out the back entrance which led straight to the garden was in reality a steep, rocky road to ruin. 

@writingcold @its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @lvnterninthenight

...and because you reblogged the teaser, this might interest you, too: @klarxtr @jakesleftankle @itsafullmoon @woyayaofdreams @pasionatematty @zoelle16 @tripthelightfantastix This is just for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #Spotify

[drcloyd]

bucktommy earth day fic

getting this in right under the wire.

pretty as a vine [read on ao3] “Did you know that Los Angeles has one of the most diverse urban forests in the world?” Evan asked, about five milliseconds after Tommy managed to open his eyes to the early morning sunlight.

Evan was already sitting against the headboard.

“I did not know that,” Tommy said, sleep-rough as he wiped a hand over his face and blinked sleep out of his eyes. Evan was bright-eyed and animated, though there was still a pillow crease on his face and he had a serious case of curly bed-head. Instead of hauling him back down onto the mattress and cuddling him back to sleep, he pushed himself into a sitting position and yawned so wide his jaw cracked.

“Chris sent me an article about urban tree planting his class read to get ready for Earth Day,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, apparently there’s 95 species of tree native to Los Angeles, but thousands more that are non-native,” he said, putting his phone down, obviously reciting the stats from memory. He never could quite predict what scenario was going to bring forth a bunch of random facts from Evan, but he enjoyed it every time.

Also, he learned a lot.

“What else did you find out?” he asked, peppering the question with a closemouthed kiss against Evan’s mouth, just to see the way his cheeks flushed.

Apparently the research hole he’d gone down was too much to fluster him for long, because he barrelled ahead after a brief pause for a sweet little smile. “Did you know there’s three times as many trees planted in rich neighborhoods here in LA than in poor neighborhoods?” he said, a tiny furrow appearing between his brow. “That’s so unfair - do you know how many benefits trees have? They reduce the temperatures in heat deserts and improve air quality - “

Tommy listened as he continued, gesticulating wildly with his hands as he rattled off facts, and couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his mouth. He hadn’t been lying, Evan was adorable but - it was also some pretty interesting stuff. Listening to one of Buck’s trivia binges inevitably led him down a rabbit hole of his own, though he was far less prone to sharing it than Buck.

He did on occasion attempt to drop them on Eddie - though that usually got him an eye roll and a teasing comment about how much time he was spending with Buck.

“I think we should do something for Earth Day,” Evan said, after going through an exhaustive list of all the ways planting trees in urban areas helped both the environment and citizens.

“You want to plant a tree?” Tommy asked, brow raised, by now leaning against the headboard, close enough that their shoulders pressed together (or more like bumped every few moments with all the gesturing Evan did).

“No - well, yeah - but it’s kind of short notice for that now,” he said. “I did look into some programs planting trees around the city that accept volunteers but there’s orientations and stuff - I was thinking of running it by Cap, seeing if we can make it a station wide thing, or maybe department wide…”

“Okay,” Tommy said, quiet, even, waiting for Evan to circle back around to what he actually wanted to do now.

“I was thinking I could plant something on my balcony. Not a tree, obviously, maybe some flowers for the bees or something?”

“That sounds doable,” Tommy said with a nod. “Is this something you’d like help with?” he asked.

“I - yeah, I mean if you’re offering,” he said. “I was thinking we could go to the home improvement store and get a little flower box and soil and stuff,” he said.

“Alright,” Tommy said, giving Evan’s thigh a little squeeze as he started to slide out of bed. “Get dressed, I’ll get the coffee going and we’ll head out,” he said.

Three hours later, they’d arrived back to the loft with a huge flower box, two bags of potting soil, two sets of gardening gloves, three different species of bee friendly flowers and a succulent Evan had fallen in love with and refused to leave behind.

Hauling it all up to Evan’s floor, even with the elevator, had been a trek, both of them a little sweaty by the time they carried it all across the threshold.

“There’s an information pamphlet in here somewhere,” Evan said, setting his flowerbox (a gorgeous piece in redwood that had cost a pretty penny but would hold up against rot and decay for as long as Evan wanted it on his balcony) on the kitchen island and rooted around inside where he’d put his part of the haul. Tommy put the large box filled with flowers (and the succulent) on the other side of the island.

“Okay, we’ve got some Great Blanket Flowers, otherwise known as Gaillardia aristata,” he said, pulling out a container with a few orange and yellow flowers, setting them beside the flower boxes on the island. “Then -” he squinted at the paper, “Million Bells, otherwise known as Calibrachoa,” a yellow flower with orange on the inside, “and a Sweet Potato vine, otherwise known as Ipomoea batatas,” he said.

“I was there when we bought them,” Tommy said, amused - it’d taken Evan a full forty-five minutes to narrow down the type of flowers he wanted to get, hemming and hawing about what would have the most benefit for bees, which would last the longest, be the most maintenance free - in the end Tommy’d had to wrangle one of the garden center employees over to give some professional advice before Evan well and truly lost himself in a Reddit spiral.

Evan laughed. “Just refreshing your memory,” he said. “Let’s get the flower box out there and then we can add the soil and start planting!” he said, clapping his hands together.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy said dryly, giving a little salute, the corner of his mouth quirking before he hefted up one of the flower boxes to take outside.

It took a bit of work to get them set up against the edge of the balcony, using some of the brackets that came with it (most of the time had been spent trying to find the drill that Evan had said he’d borrowed from Eddie - they’d found it in the hall closet under a pile of sheets).

“How’s that?” Tommy asked, knees clicking as he straightened up, peering down at the flower boxes that now took up most of the length of the balcony railing.

“Perfect,” Evan said, pressing a kiss to his cheek on his way past to grab the bags of soil. He was so much freer with his affection - Tommy knew it’d taken him some time to get used to it, but he always felt a little spark of warmth with every absent brush of his hand or chaste little kiss, just because - Evan had held his hand on the walk from the parking lot to the home improvement store and he’d had to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smile.

Instead of helping, he watched Evan bring the two bags of soil out, arm muscles bulging, though he didn’t look as if he were exerting himself in the least.

“Both bags should be enough,” Evan said, leaving one to heft the other onto his shoulder and carry it toward the closest box. Tommy grabbed the other and did the same, and it only took a few moments to have it filled to an acceptable (to Evan and presumably the flowers) depth.

After procuring some beers, grabbing the flowers, and then going back inside to grab the two pairs of gloves, they were ready to start planting the flowers. Evan stood back, eyeing the box like a sculptor about to start chisling some marble. Tommy watched, amused and annoyingly fond, as he paced the length of the box, looked back to the box of flowers, and then back again.

“Let’s start with the Great Blanket Flowers,” he finally said after a long moment, giving a decisive nod. Tommy grabbed the flowers from the box - they’d gotten three large ones in separate pots, and set them on the ground next to where Evan had knelt down, gloves already on.

Tommy donned his, kneeling down, ignoring the cracking of his knees, and let Evan take the lead.

“I think they’d look best here at the front,” he said. Tommy nodded - he didn’t have a particular eye for flower arrangements, but he trusted Evan’s judgment. Also, he honestly didn’t think the bees would care one way or the other.

They worked in companionable silence to gently uproot the flowers from their pots, careful not to snag any of the roots. Evan dug some holes with his gloved hand deep enough to easily cover the roots, the soil easily moved. Tommy placed one of the bunches into a hole, patting the soil down around it and let Evan do the other two, reaching for his beer as he watched the careful way Evan handled the plants, even with the unwieldy gloves on.

There was a look of concentration on his face, and Tommy kind of wanted to kiss away that little furrow between his brow. He took a pull of beer instead, setting the bottle down as Evan patted down the last bit of soil.

“There. I think those look good there.” Tommy hummed in agreement. “The sweet potato vines should probably go along the back so they can drape down off the balcony when they grow, and we can fill in the Million Bells in around them?” he said, as if Tommy might have another idea about possible flower arrangements.

He didn’t.

Tommy helped, but mostly just sat back on his heels and watched as Evan arranged the flowers to his liking, his tongue occasionally peeking out between his teeth as he held the flowers in different spots before committing to their final resting place.

When the last flower had been put in place, Evan eased himself back onto his heels, close enough that Tommy could feel the heat of his body, sunwarm and shining faintly with perspiration.

“Looks good,” Tommy said approvingly, though his gaze wasn’t stuck on the flowers. Evan’s was though, a smile lighting up when a bee buzzed by and headed straight for the Blanket Flowers. He watched it for a while, and Tommy watched him watching it, before Evan seemed to tense a little, glancing over at him.

“Hey,” he said, sounding oddly insecure. “Thanks for doing this with me,” he said, eyes bright, as if he imagined Tommy would have agreed to come if he hadn’t wanted to. Tommy didn’t do things he didn’t want to do. He hoped in time he could get Evan to believe that.

“Of course,” Tommy said, leaning forward to kiss him, soft and sweet, forgetting his hand was still gloved as he brought it up to rest against his chin. Evan kissed him back, and when he pulled back he had a smudge of dirt on his jaw.

Tommy grinned, taking his glove off so that he could wipe the smudge away with his thumb.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

#911 #bucktommy #911fic #any excuse to use a hozier lyric

[icewindandboringhorror]

one of the bad things about having such low social energy/social anhedonia/little interest in interacting with others in any capacity/ Hermit Disease™ is that like.. once every FIVE months here and there I’ll get fleeting bursts of social energy and will message one or two people to catch up with old friends or etc. and then it’s like... 

tfw you message someone and then wake up the next morning to see that they REPLIED to your message so now you’re actually supposed to message them back, which is an obligation you were somehow not expecting despite the fact that YOU sent them a message 

#I feel bad because it's like.. I know I WAS THE ONE who reached out to you but also I have depleted all of my energy stores and have like no #capacity to respond that this point.. Which usually I'll get to it in like 2-7 days and people who know me (people who I would actually #message) know this/are aware it doesn't mean anything/are okay with it so its not really a big deal but still lol #girls and squirrels i am so sorry i dont know what to tell you but I have Disorders gjhgbhj #oh same thing when someone messages me and then I respond and I'm like 'whew finally got that off the to do list! now I dont have to worry #about social interactions for the next few days' and they RESPOND to my RESPONSE within like 30 minutes of sending it #so now I'm back at the point where I owe them a response even though i JUST crossed that off my to do list ghbh #And there's some people out here who are like 'omg.. if people don't text me back in 30 minutes then they must hate me! i want to be texted #back immediately. true friends will drop everything theyre doing just to text you!! >:T' whereas I'm like #god if I reply to you and you reply back to me within less than 24 hours I'm going to scream... just give it a good 2 or 3 days.. let the #message sit PLEASE.. it's social buffer time.. let's recharge our energy... the the conov age like a fine wine #(unless it's urgent. obv if we're coordinating plans or scheduling something we both must reply promptly exactly) #AND ALS THIS IS just a caveat of text communication like I HATE text communication. another reason it's SO hard to find new friends is that #nobody wants to just talk on the phone/discord voice chat/Some Medium Of Real Time Audio Communication anymore #everyone is like.. 'oh just send short little messages through a stupid fucking chat client or text me or message me on a social media' and #it's like.................................... no........ i dont think I will #Real time communication is SO MUCH faster and more efficient like. It would take me 2 hours to type something that I could say in a 30 minut #e conversation. People who I have genuine conversations with (like 5 hour long talks) are the ones who are not afraid to just be like #'yeah i have somehting I want to talk to you about. can we schedule a phone call thursday at 10:30am?' #also like.. if you text me at 3pm I am not going to respond to the message (depending on the contents-obv will reply sooner if #urgent) probably until 3 or 4 days later. If you call me at 3pm then we're talking at 3pm for as long as you want (or as long as is practica #l - also assuming I'm not already in the middle of something etc. etc.) #Like phone calls/voice calls/whatever - are so good because it's immediate. no having to go through and spell check. I am also a rambling pe #rson with complicated thoughts and i AM INCAPABLE of having short conversations. no matter how hard I try #you send me a sentence of text and I will write back 3 paragraphs. this makes text-form communication THAT much more taxing and time consumi #ng - whereas I can explain even really complicated things in Real time in like 20 minutes MAX when it would take 1.5hr to type and proofrea #d and etc. in text. ALSO I love that it is a Structured ONE TIME interaction. I know eactly when a phone call will start and can plan for #when it will end. Text form communications are ongoing background interactions with no clear start or end. no structure. etc. #in person/phone/real time communication is just SO much easier for my brain to process and depletes my social energy slower #. it stinks that the entire earth is slowly moving away from the only form of social interaction that is convenient to me lol.. BUT ANYWAY

[arthur-r]

actual footage of the smallest dance imaginable. a hundred people bought tickets which is. not a lot for an entire seven cities worth of students in a school. and then there was maybe fifty people total in the building at the most filled up time cause so many people just used the tickets as donating to charity and didn’t even want to go

#was excited to come home and laugh at the dance and then it just got a little much toward the end #but i still think it was pretty funny. also there were so many songs that literally no one there knew?? #my friends begged the dj (social studies teacher) to skip songs no one was dancing to and they wouldn’t #the entire night was really funny before i started falling apart about everything it just became a little much #kind of this whole week combined. monday i tried to take the bus to school showed up ten minutes early waited half an hour it never showed #(first time trying to take the bus from the apartment. school said there’s a stop here but apparently no) #tuesday i tried to take the bus after school and it never stopped within a mile of the apartment. got dropped off at a trailer park #that was not mine. had to have my mom pick me up. and then go to work after like regular #then wednesday was a little bit normal i think. pretty much regular. but did have trouble getting home again!! just not as exciting #anyway then thursday was probably maybe normal?? except my sister came in to school to visit her old favorite teacher. who is my teacher #in economics. and knows me trans and i had to have a conversation with my sister. so maybe not that normal #and then on friday. my older sister had my key card and i couldn’t get into the apartment building. waited outside for my little sister for #twenty minutes in the cold and then we went in the lobby and had to wait for a stranger to get close enough to ask for help. bad experience #so anyway there’s been a lot leading up to today. and it makes sense that i fell apart eventually. but no longer crying so call that a win #hope you all are well. i’ll go to sleep eventually. just a lot to get off my chest. in conclusion wasn’t this dance stupid #we hadn’t had a charity gala since pre-covid so i think just nobody knew what it would be like. i’m the only grade who’s been before #if it wasn’t for the charity gala i wouldn’t know i was trans. somebody complimented my transition there and i was like sorry i can do that? #(had cut my hair short and was wearing a suit. considered myself a stag bisexual and hadn’t heard of transmasculinity /gen) #so i had maybe high expectations. anyway i’m probably running out of tags soon just. yeah. idk. today was a lot #friends only #delete later

[oceancracker]

the horrid progression of living with executive dysfunction your whole life and gradually realizing you actually do really well at fabricating assignments last minute and in fact do some of your best work this way. and getting better and better at doing stuff last minute because you never learn time management and dont have to because the only real consequence is stress lol!! and actually sometimes when you get it done before the deadline its not as good as it wouldve been if you had done it last minute

#THE AGONY #i have done. so much good work in a fraction of the time i was given to do it #some stuff you cant cheat like for instance some art is hard to fake having worked on for a long time #esp dry media that you have to build up over time. and also oil paints lol #but. boy oh boy. have there been a million assignments i have done in like 2 hours when we were given 3 weeks #AND THE WORST PART. is when you do Okay but not super great but #you can tell yourself. well. i did it in such a short amt of time soooo it wouldve been better if i started earlier #but you never do. #one time in basic photography for the final i admitted i had done the whole thing in the few hours before class #and the professor was like ‘well. youre not supposed to tell us that but i appreciate the honesty’ and i was like. what honesty #ive done that for every project this year lol. and you have no idea #anyway. putting stuff off right this minute as we speak!!!!! haha! #shouts

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #dunmeshi analysis #I love it when dungeon meshi says. the trauma was real and it changed you #and the way you are because of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of #but you have to keep living. you have to chose to keep living. #and you can #dungeon meshi spoilers

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

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. 

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. 

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.” 

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.”

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

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales imagine #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction

[jaylaxies]

NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

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#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

[ichigo-dream]

Leon - Squish - (SFW & NSFW)

Hi everyone!

We still can't get over the fact that this man is built like that and that he put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4. Honestly we've spent many hours discussing his squish so have some of our fav headcanons:

Every part of this man is rideable - thighs, biceps, throat, ab, face, doesn’t matter, any port in a storm and what a pretty, squishy port he is. 

u love gently pinching and biting his cheeks bc he still has some of his lil baby face from his rookie days 

his lap is the comfiest place to sit 

your throne 

Leon will grab you by the hips and pull you onto his plush thighs at any point 

soft and pillowy but you can feel the muscle when he flexes 

You love his little freckles that come out in the sunshine and the summertime - there’s one on the inside of his beautiful thigh scarily close to his dick and it makes him feral when you kiss or bite at it. 

To Leon, the only benefit of working for the US Government is travel perks - when flying he always flies first class, and it's the only time he can be comfortable on public transport bc he’s a unit of a man 

Any other time, he has to curl in on himself and crush his legs together to not take up more than his designated space. 

can spread his thick delicious thighs as much as he wants 

in the summertime he likes to workout outside

will do push-ups whilst shirtless 

you try not to pass out at the sight of his muscles flexing + slick with sweat 

sometimes you’ll sit on his back as he does this when he wants some extra weight 

baby boy is so strong it makes u drool 

Loves wearing shorts but gets self-conscious if he wears them in public.

Absolutely will steal your sunglasses to wear whilst he’s outside - (we couldn’t get the image of Leon shirtless in little shorts wearing heart shaped sunglasses out of our heads)

one day he wants to surprise you by wearing his old rpd uniform (cute play on all the times you would playfully call him “officer Kennedy”) but you hear him grunting in frustration from the bedroom so u go to check it out 

shit does not fit this man

not even a little 

trousers caught around his legs bc the material won’t fit over his juicy thighs + ass. You’re trying not to drool at the sight. waistband is fr about to snap 

dick bulge bc the trousers don’t fit over that either 

shirt also  doesn’t fit  - buttons are straining within an inch of their life against his broad chest, waiting to pop  

only thing that does fit is the old bulletproof vest - barely. 

“Never got to wear my summer uniform, and I didn’t want to buy a new one so… I tried to make my own but…”

baby boy is blushing in embarrassment at his failed attempt to be sexy 

but oh he has no idea 

what he’s doing to you rn 

have to pick your jaw off the floor at the sight of him 

he’s sweating a little too from the effort 

you want him to choke you out with his thighs or biceps, you’re not picky 

You tell him to turn around and you’ll try to help him pull them up at the back but this is a ruse -  you just want to see his ass jiggle as he tries to force the trousers up. 

“I’m sorry, I can't get them on..” he whines, annoyed that he can’t surprise you anymore. 

“It’s okay, pretty boy, I need you to take them off anyway”  

devouring this man like he’s a piece of cake on god 

strawberry to be precise 

When you’re fucking him, if you grab at his ass it’ll drive him crazy

You have to resist the urge to motorboat him when his bare chest is freely offered to your greedy eyes.

the juiciest tits u ever seen 

Don’t be fooled tho - tho this man is a beast, he ‘s actually a puppy on the inside. 

He absolutely adores getting to cuddle with you and lie on your chest and snooze - because he’s bigger than you he tends to worry about crushing you but you reassure him that it's okay (glory glory what a hell of a way to die). 

We could go all day (much like Leon) but we’ll stop there for now!

Comment “Bingo!” if you made it to the end, and let us know if you’d like more!

Love, 

Ichigo and Dream xoxo

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy headcannons #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy

[beskarandblasters]

And they were “roommates”

Abby Anderson x F!Reader x Ellie Williams

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

*Important post regarding TLOU + Neil Druckmann’s Zionism!Please educate yourselves, folks!*

Author’s note: Thank you to @proxima-writes for the idea! And thank you to @amanitacowboy for beta reading and giving me the push to write this 🤍

Summary: The rent is too damn high in Seattle, forcing you to look for roommates. When you spot an ad on Craigslist for two women looking for someone to fill their third bedroom, you decide to take them up on the offer.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, the year is not specified, Ellie is 21, reader is 23, Abby is 25, bi!reader, Abby “no homo” Anderson, threesome, fingering, oral sex, strap sucking, strap fucking (reader and Ellie receiving) sub!Ellie, sub!reader (but also switch leaning), dom!Abby, squirting, cum eating, orgasm delay/denial, pet names (good girl, baby), no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Living in Seattle has taught you two things: the rent is too damn expensive and having a roommate is crucial. So as your lease on your current apartment is about to end, you scour the internet for a new place and a roommate. And that’s when you find the perfect ad on Craigslist. 

“Wanted: One roommate to move into the third bedroom of our apartment. Women only. Rent will be split between the three of us. For more information, contact Ellie Williams at 206-333-5522”

The words that caught your eye were women only. It seems promising enough. Doesn’t hurt to give this Ellie person a call. 

You pick up your phone and dial the number for Ellie, half expecting the ad to be fake and to hear a man’s voice on the other side of the line.

But you were wrong. 

“Hello?” a woman’s voice answers. You estimate she’s somewhere in her mid-twenties. 

“Hi, I just saw your ad on Craigslist? For a roommate?”

“Oh, right. Well, first tell me a little bit about yourself and then we can set up a time for you to come see the place.”

You tell her your name and say, “Well, uh, I’m an intern at the Seattle Times. I’m twenty-three. And my lease is ending at my current apartment.”

“Okay. I’m Ellie and my roommate is Abby. I’m twenty-one and Abby’s twenty-five. I work at the planetarium at the Pacific Science Center and she’s a personal trainer… Can I ask why you’re not renewing your lease at your current place?” 

“Too expensive.”

“What are you paying now?” 

“About fifteen hundred a month.”

“Oh, you’ll get a much better deal here. Twenty-one hundred a month split three ways.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, we lucked out with this place. But we need another roommate as soon as possible. When do you want to come look at the apartment?”

“Are you free this afternoon?”

“This afternoon?”

“Unless that’s too short notice-”

“That’s fine. What time?”

“Around five or so? It’ll be after Abby’s out of work.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and glance at the time— two in the afternoon. You’ve still got a few hours. 

“Sure. What’s the address?”

“505 Walnut Street. We’ll meet you outside.”

That’s only a couple of streets over from you. It should be an easy move if this works out. 

“Sounds good. See you then.”

“See you then,” she repeats before hanging up. 

To kill time until the meeting, you look up the building on Google. It’s a cute, older brick building with a lot of charm, in a nice neighborhood, too. But as five o’clock rolls around, you leave your apartment and start to walk to theirs. You hope it goes well and that both of them seem to like you. You’ve never had a roommate before, not even in college. And going from no roommates to two is a big jump. 

You turn the corner onto Walnut Street, walking on the even side of the street. Two women are standing in front of the brick building you saw online, presumably Ellie and Abby. The taller one, who has to be Abby judging by how buff she is,  notices you coming their way and points you out to the shorter one, making that one Ellie. 

“Nice to meet you,” the shorter one says, holding out her hand, “I’m Ellie.” 

As you shake her hand you notice the tattoo on her forearm; a moth with a fern. She’s cute with shoulder-length auburn hair and green eyes. She seems nice enough. Ellie gestures to the other one and says, “This is Abby.” 

Abby shakes your hand and you’re amazed at the sheer size of her. Her handshake is solid, the palm of her hand covered with callouses, presumably from weights at the gym. 

“Nice to meet you both,” you say, followed by your name. 

Ellie leads you inside and Abby follows behind, holding the door open for you. 

“It’s up a few flights of stairs,” Ellie says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me.”

It’s a fourth-floor walk-up, coincidentally the top floor, too. Ellie lets you inside and from what you can see already fifteen hundred dollars it’s a steal. She leads you through the apartment, starting in the kitchen and to the living room. Down the hallway are the bedrooms and the bathroom. She shows you the bathroom first then what would be your bedroom. You take a look around. It’s big enough to hold most if not all of your furniture from your current room. But then you also think about the furniture you’ll have to get rid of since they have things like a kitchen table and a living room couch already. The thought has you stressed and now you’re fixating on just how you’re going to move out and get rid of your shit. 

“Do you like it?” Abby asks the first time she’s addressed you. You look her in the eye, and notice more about her; her blue eyes, the freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, and how shiny her skin is, most likely from sweat. You think about her working out and the thought has you staring off into space. 

“Is that a yes?” she chuckles, snapping you from your thoughts. 

“I do! Sorry, I was thinking about where my stuff would go… And how much of a pain in the ass it’ll be to get it all here,” you joke.

“Where do you live now?” she says.

“Cypress Street. Six hundred block.”

“That’s not far from here. I can help you.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Yeah if it’ll help you move in faster… We need someone soon,” she explains.

“I think you got yourself a deal. But I just want to ask, why women only?”

“Can you blame us,” Ellie snorts.

“Well, no,” you chuckle.

“I just have to ask before you say yes… I’m gay. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No,” you chuckle, “I’m bi myself.”

“Oh, okay,” Ellie says, letting out a sigh of relief.

“What about-” you start.

“Straight,” Abby says, finishing your thought for you before turning and leaving the room.

“So when can you move in?” Ellie asks.

“Two weeks?”

“Works for us. And she’s serious about helping you by the way.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” she nods.

“Thanks. I’ll give you a call soon then?”

“Sounds good,” she affirms. 

“Alright, then. We’ll be in touch,” you say as she leads you to the door. You were going to say goodbye to Abby but you hear the shower running. And now your mind is thinking about her in the steamy shower… skin peppered in droplets of water…

That makes you realize you’re attracted to both of your soon-to-be roommates. And that could be a problem. At least you know there’s no chance with Abby. But Ellie on the other hand…

Guess you’ll have to wait and see how this goes.

-

Two weeks go by and you’re standing in your almost empty apartment, watching Abby lift everything with ease. Ellie helps, too, but Abby noticeably carries the heavier stuff. Anything you had that Abby and Ellie already did is getting put into a storage unit. And after a long day of clearing out your old apartment, making storage unit runs, and moving into your new bedroom, you’re finally starting to get settled in. 

 Just as you flop down on your bed, you hear a knock on the door. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie… Wanna join?” Ellie asks, poking her head in. She’s not making eye contact with you and her face is blushed… She’s nervous. 

“Sure,” you say, getting off your bed and meeting her in the hallway. 

You follow her to the living room where she sits on the opposite side of the couch from Abby, leaving you to sit… in between them. 

“So what are we watching?” you ask, gingerly sitting down. 

“Oh uh-”

“Breakfast Club,” Abby says.

“Interstellar,” Ellie suggests.

“No way! You’ll fall asleep,” Abby says.

“No I won’t,” Ellie says defensively. 

“You always do. Any movie that’s over three hours long, you pass right out.”

“But Breakfast Club is so fucking boring-”

“You’re being rude. Ask her what she wants,” Abby says, cutting Ellie off.

“You’re right. What do you want to watch?” Ellie says.

“Uhh… Interstellar’s fine with me. I don’t think I’ve watched it all the way yet.”

“It’s because you keep falling asleep, isn’t it?” Abby says, stifling a laugh.

“Shut up,” Ellie sighs, rolling her eyes. 

“You guys fight like an old married couple,” you tease, “But you did not just call Breakfast Club boring,” you shoot at Ellie.

“Told you,” Abby says, leaning back against the couch and turning on the TV. 

-

After the second act of Interstellar, you realize that Abby is right… because you and Ellie are falling asleep. 

You vaguely hear the TV turn off followed by Abby muttering to herself.

“I told them both,” she sighs, getting up and heading to bed. 

Ellie’s already passed out and you’re too lazy to get up, resigning to falling asleep on the couch. 

-

You wake up with your cheek pressed against something warm… something soft, something humanlike. You open your eyes and all you can see in the dark is the vague outline of Ellie. Somehow in your sleep, you met each other in the middle, falling asleep on her chest, head tucked into the crook of her neck. 

You really should get up but she’s so warm and comfortable…

You couldn’t move if you tried.

-

Ellie wakes up with a startle, not realizing what happened in her sleep. But she’s not mad at it. Instead, she brushes her thumb on the back of your head, wrapping her other arm around you. As soon as she does that, you jolt awake, poking your head up and meeting her eyes in the darkness. She moves her hands away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

But when you say, “No… Keep doing that,” everything changes.

You crash your lips into hers, a little sloppy at first as you both find each other. She tastes like her minty toothpaste, her breath cool and tickly as she moves against you. You shift so you’re hovering directly over her, reaching for her inner thigh before stopping to ask, “Is this okay?” 

“More than okay,” she breathes out, spreading her legs apart for you. 

You place your knee by her pussy, giving her enough contact to grind herself against it. You reach down and kiss her again, feeling the way she writhes underneath you, hips wantonly moving back and forth. She moans into the kiss, desperate for more contact and you oblige, pushing your knee taught against her as your lips move down her neck. Moans escape her mouth and you quietly remind her in her ear, “Gotta stay quiet. Don’t want to wake her.”

You chuckle before replacing your lips against her neck, inching down to her collarbone. You’re determined to give her a hickey in a place Abby won’t be able to see so you pull her shirt collarbone, sucking and nipping at her soft skin. She does her best to choke back her moans as she gets herself off on your knee. Eventually, the movement of her hips goes erratic and she bites her lip, trying desperately to stay quiet. 

“Good girl,” you tell her, reaching your hand down between her thighs. Your hand slides up her sleep shorts where you find… no panties.

“No panties, Ellie? Naughty girl.” 

She whimpers in response, moving her hips again, letting her know she wants your fingers.

“Use your words,” you tease.

“Fingers… please,” she softly moans.

You bring your fingers to your mouth, moistening your pointer and middle fingers for her. One finger teases her entrance, slowly circling it before pushing inside her. She bites back a moan, moving her hips and already begging for more. But you don’t give it to her yet, curling your finger painstakingly slowly. 

“Please, I need more,” she whispers.

“Since you asked nicely,” you tease, pushing a second finger in. 

You tell even in the darkness her mouth falls open, jaw going slack. You kiss along her jawline, slowly making your way to the spot where her neck meets her ear while you curl your fingers against her g-spot. But with the addition of your thumb rubbing circles around her clit, she cums hard. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and she lets out quiet moans of pleasure. 

“Good girl,” you whisper against her ear, letting her ride out her high before pulling back and resting on your heels. You bring your fingers to your mouth, tasting her spend. Somehow that makes everything real for you… making you realize you just fingered your roommate of only a few hours.

Way to go, you think to yourself.

“Sorry about that,” you whisper, quickly getting off the couch and making a dash for your room. You close the door and flop down onto your bed, wondering what the fuck you just got yourself into. So much for not being attracted to your roommates. At least the other one is straight.

-

You wake up to the glimmering sunlight peeking in through the curtains. The memories of last night immediately flood your mind. You can’t avoid this at all. Aside from the obvious fact that you and Ellie are roommates, you both have the day off today. You remember her telling you during the process of moving yesterday because she offered to help you decorate your new room.

You’ll have to face her eventually. 

Pulling yourself out of bed, you sleepily drag your feet through the hallway and into the kitchen. She’s already there, sitting at the kitchen table, so the time to rip off the band-aid is now. 

But first, you head to the coffee machine, and grab a mug from the cabinet before asking her, “Do you want any?” 

“No thanks. I don’t like coffee,” she responds.

“Gotcha,” you say awkwardly, wishing the tension would dissipate.

After a beat of silence, you say, “I’m sorry for you know… last night.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Well, I mean probably not the best thing to do with your brand new roommate,” you continue, grabbing the creamer from the refrigerator. 

“Who said that’s a bad thing? It’s like having a live-in friends-with-benefits situation.”

She’s surprisingly cool with this.

“Really?” you ask, shutting the door and turning to face her with your mug in hand.

“Really,” she affirms, “As long as we set some ground rules.”

“Like what?” you ask, sitting across from her. 

“Keep it platonic and Abby can’t find out.”

The platonic thing definitely won’t last but sure. Why can’t Abby find out?

“Why can’t she-”

“She’ll give me shit. I just don’t feel like dealing with it,” she says. 

It’s probably not the best to keep secrets from one roommate but you also just started sleeping with the other. 

“Fine by me,” you say, sipping on your coffee. 

-

That was the start of your purely sexual relationship with Ellie. You’ve spent the past few weeks sneaking around behind Abby’s back, fucking on your days off when Abby’s already gone to bed or early in the morning after she’s already left for the gym. Your bedroom is in between theirs so when you fuck you opt to use Ellie’s room since it’s a little bit farther away from Abby’s. There’s been a few close calls where Abby came home earlier from work than expected, or where her date got canceled. Ellie thinks Abby’s suspicious of you two but you convince her otherwise, telling her that Abby probably just assumes you’re close because you have similar work schedules and see more of each other. At least that’s what you hope she thinks. 

-

You’re about to do your nightly routine of sneaking into Ellie’s room after Abby’s gone to bed. Tiptoeing down the hallway, you open Ellie’s door slowly, quietly entering her room and guiding the door shut so it doesn’t slam against the frame. 

“I have a surprise,” Ellie says. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask with a smirk, “And what would that be?”

She lifts her pillow to reveal a strap-on, black harness with a pink dildo. But you’re left wondering which of you two is actually going to use it… 

The truth is, you and Ellie are both subs. Sometimes you lean towards being a switch but you’re both subs at heart. 

“Who’s gonna wear it?” you ask, your eyes not leaving the strap-on. 

“I was thinking you could… use the strap?”

“Uhh-”

“Listen I know you’re a sub but-”

“Yeah, I’m a sub.”

“I think you’d be a good dom!” she says, picking up the strap and walking towards you. 

You sigh loudly, pressing your palms to your eyes and saying, “I’m glad you think that but I’m just not a dom.”

Suddenly a knock on Ellie’s door interrupts you before either of you can say anything else. 

“Can I come in?” Abby asks. 

Ellie hastily shoves the strap-on under her pillow and says, “Come in!”

Abby opens the door and leans against the doorframe, a small smile gracing her lips. She’s wearing her classic sleep attire; a light gray tank top and patterned boxers. This pair is blue with rain clouds on them. 

“Can you two keep it down?” 

“Of course. Sorry, Abs,” you say. 

But she doesn’t move. She stays there in the door frame with her smile growing wider. 

“Anything else?” Ellie asks. 

“Yes, actually,” she says, standing up straight, “I’m just wondering how two subs made it this long.

“What?” you and Ellie say in unison.

“You heard me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I guess I should clarify. I heard you two about three weeks ago.”

“You knew this whole time?” Ellie asks, her face going pale. 

“Pretty much,” she shrugs. 

“And what do you have to say about this?” Ellie continues. 

“I just think you two need to know what it’s like to be dommed.”

“Oh yeah? By who?” you counter. 

“Oh shut up and get on the bed. Both of you,” she commands, rolling her eyes. 

You and Ellie exchange glances, staying still for a moment. Which prompts Abby to say, “Do you need to be told again?”

You scramble to the bed, sitting side by side with Ellie. Abby walks to the edge of the bed, crouching down in front of the two of you. 

“Now Ellie, where’s this strap?”

Ellie reaches for her pillow, lifting it and handing the strap to Abby. 

“Just for your smart mouth, you get to watch me fuck her first,” Abby says to you.

Your mouth falls open, watching as it all unfolds before you. Ellie stands from the bed and strips, lying back down and spreading her legs. Abby inches closer, arms locking around Ellie’s thighs as she eats her out. The sight is so fucking hot and you have the urge to touch yourself. But as you open your thighs and inch your hand down by your groin, Abby stops you, poking her head up. 

“I didn’t say you could do that,” she says, her chin glistening with Ellie’s wetness under the moonlight peeking in from the window. 

“Sorry,” you say quickly, removing your hand and snapping your legs shut. 

Abby returns to eating Ellie out, her eyes glancing up at her while Ellie’s back arches up off the bed. It looks like she’s about to cum soon. But before she can Abby pulls away, rising from the floor and grabbing the strap beside her. She sheds her clothes and puts on the strap, grabbing Ellie by her hair and hoisting her upright. 

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she commands, holding Ellie’s face in front of the tip of the strap. Ellie opens her mouth and takes as much as she can in her mouth. It’s hot watching her do this considering she’s never sucked a dick before or even a strap for that matter, but she’s got the spirit. 

But once Abby decides she’s done enough, she pushes Ellie back down on the bed, kneeling in between her legs. Abby lifts Ellie by her hips, angling her to the tip of the trap. Abby pushes into Ellie, eliciting a moan from deep within her.

“Doing such a good job, taking my cock like such a good girl,” Abby says, looking down at her. 

Ellie can only respond with a string of choked-up moans. Her grip on Ellie’s hips is firm, holding her steady as Abby plows into her. You feel the wetness pool between your legs, your jaw going slack as you watch Abby fuck Ellie, not sure which one you want to be more. 

With one last slam of Abby’s hips, Ellie cums around the strap, writhing under Abby’s grasp. Abby holds her still as she rides out her high. You notice her eyes are glassy with tears, threatening to spill over. A tear escapes her right eye, rolling down her cheek. Abby reaches forward, swiping it away with her thumb and praising Ellie. 

“Such a good girl,” she says, “I bet you’re spent.”

Ellie nods, sighing as Abby removes the strap inside her.

“You can have a break while I take care of this one,” Abby continues, turning towards you. She takes a step closer to you, towering over you as looks down at you with a smirk on her face. 

“I think I need to make an example out of you. You know, show Ellie over here what happens when you’re bad.”

You sit upright, looking up at her wide-eyed as if she’ll show you any mercy. 

“Strip,” she commands, placing a hand on her hip.

You stand from the bed, the tip of the strap making contact with your thigh as you pull your t-shirt over your head. The strap is slick, sliding against your skin. You know what it tastes like– Ellie’s spend, and you want it. That is if Abby will let you, of course. 

You kick off your sleep shorts, standing in front of Abby completely bare. A shiver runs down your spine in anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She leans forward and pushes you down on the bed, spreading your thighs apart. Situating herself in between your legs, she hovers over your face and grabs your chin. 

“You don’t get to cum until I say so. Got it?”

“Y-Yes,” you breathe out, voice dripping with arousal. 

She takes two fingers, brushing them across your lips before commanding, “Open.”

You open your mouth, letting her place them inside. 

“Now suck.”

Closing your lips and beginning to suck her fingers, you maintain eye contact with her, being sure to never break it. You swirl your tongue around her fingers, getting them nice and wet for what she’s about to do, which you assume is fingering you. But you’re being punished, who knows what she has up her sleeve?

“That’s a good girl,” she says, drawing her fingers away from your mouth. “So far,” she quickly adds. 

Resting on her heels, she leans back, the bright pink strap sticking straight out and still glistening. She runs her fingers along your pussy, spreading around the wetness that’s already there. She slides one finger in at first but her hands are so big that it already feels amazing. She curls it against your walls, her eyes studying you for physical reactions to her touch.

“Remember what I said?” she asks.

“Don’t cum without permission,” you say.

“Good,” she praises, pushing her finger up against your g-spot.

You look over at Ellie who’s watching you both with an astounded expression on her face. Probably because she never thought she would see her supposedly straight roommate dom her other roommate. 

“Hey, eyes on me,” Abby commands. 

You tear your gaze away from Ellie, looking back at Abby who replaces her hand on your chin again. She inserts another finger inside you, keeping the movement she’s using slow. Already your orgasm is starting to build up but you do your best to keep it at bay.

“You’re being so good for me,” she coos.

You let out a breathy moan in response, walls tensing up in anticipation of a big release. From your toes to your ears your body feels tingly. She can sense you getting close but she doesn’t say anything yet, wanting to see if you’ll ask for permission.

“Can I please cum, Abby?” you whimper.

“I don’t know. Have you earned it?”

“Please, Abby. I can’t hold on anymore,” you whine.

“Do it. Cum on my fingers, baby,” she purrs, keeping her grip on your chin tight. You need something to hold onto– the sheets, the pillows, something. But something possesses you to grab Abby’s braid, without permission but you have a feeling she’ll like it. You reach a hand up and grab her braid in the middle tugging on it as your orgasm threatens to break loose.

The hair-pulling does something for her because she utters a low “Oh fuck.”

That’s when you finally let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the orgasm. But it’s more than just a regular orgasm. You squirted, feeling your release soak her hand, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you. Abby tears her gaze away from you to look between your legs, watching as your spend leaks out of you. She looks back at you and says, “You squirted.”

“I know… Was I not supposed to?”

She doesn’t respond, instead, she crashes her lips into yours. Before pulling away and hovering a couple of inches over your face.

“I need you to do that again and again,” she says, kissing you one more time before pulling back and resting on her heels.

“O-Okay,” you say, your body still shuttering.

“What the fuck?! I’ve never gotten you to do that before,” Ellie says.

“See, that’s why you needed me to show you,” Abby sighs, getting off the bed. “Now both of you get up.”

You and Ellie both stand up, standing awkwardly side by side as Abby lies down on the bed.

“Shit, your sheets are soaked, El,” 

“I don’t even care. That shit was hot,” Ellie says. 

“So what are we doing now?” you ask. 

“Now it’s time for the reward. You get my cock since you squirted.”

“Oh, okay,” you say nervously, moving on the bed to straddle her. You sink down onto the strap, letting it expand your walls before you start moving. Abby reaches her hands towards your breasts, caressing the outline of them before taking your nipples in between her fingertips, not pinching them harshly but playing with them, all slow and soft.

“Ride my cock, baby,” she commands, “But remember you have to ask to cum.”

You nod, starting to rock your hips back and forth. You place your hands on her chest for support. But your cheeks heat up when you realize you put your hands right over her breasts. She doesn’t care though, letting you do what you need to fuck yourself on her cock. She slides her hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. Your walls tense up like they did before, getting ready to cum again. 

“Abby… Can I cum again?”

“Mhm. Show me how you cum on my cock,” she says, holding your waist tighter.

You cum again, ringing in your second one for the night. The movement of your hips grows sloppy as you ride out your high, this one deeper than the last. But eventually, you slow to a stop, staying with the strap inside you and waiting for further instructions. 

“Alright, get in here, too,” Abby says to Ellie. 

“Where do I-”

“Where do you think?” Abby says sarcastically.

Ellie moves onto the bed, straddling Abby’s face. She lowers herself so her pussy is directly over Abby’s mouth, gasping at the feeling. You begin grinding against the strap again, but this time you lean forward towards Ellie. She meets you in the middle, lips colliding with yours. The both of you moan into each other’s mouths, orgasms already impending due to how sensitive you both are. You cum around the strap, moaning into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with Ellie, marking your third orgasm of the night. She cums, too, judging by the sounds she’s making. You feel your release drip out of your pussy and run down your thighs. Judging by how wet it is, you squirted again much to Abby’s delight. 

Ellie tears herself away from you to flop down onto the bed, completely exhausted. You lean forward and rest on Abby’s chest, her hand rubbing small circles on your back. And the three of you stay there just like that for a moment, your skin slick with sweat and radiating heat. It’s… nice and you could truly fall asleep like this, naked and pressed up against your roommates. It can’t last forever, though, because eventually, Abby has to get up and go to bed. 

“I have to get up early in the morning so I’ll leave you two… to whatever you were doing before,” she says as you move off of her. She gets up from the bed and takes off the strap, reaching for her clothes. But before she goes you have to poke fun at her again.

“So much for being straight, huh?” you ask as she gets dressed. 

She shoots you a death glare but you continue the joke. 

“Aw come on. Just admit you wanna fuck me and Ellie.”

“Watch your mouth,” she says sharply, turning and shutting the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie to erupt into a fit of laughter. 

Tag list: @littlegrungegirlaf @fhatbhabie @sweetercalypso @chrry1ovr @certifiedelliekisser @bunnyboop03 @hausofblossom @ibatman @pretty-forest-nymph @ellieslizzies @reinersbigolboobies @saltandpepperchicken @localshitpoststore @liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @merciiss @genderfluidlesbain999 @ellieswifee

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou 2

[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

[writingoddess1125]

You take care of their hair

You x One Peice Characters

Support me on Ko-Fi

Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp

Buggy

Buggy hair is long and truthfully very beautiful. He takes pride in it secretly even if he doesn't let anyone know- When you get there and start taking care of his hair it flourishes.

"You have such pretty hair!" Yoj gush as you moisturize the long blue locks

"SHUT UP!"

He is like a l'oreal model at this point and will step out to do shows with his hair down sometimes. Loves it when you wash his hair too and will make cute noises when you scratch his scalp. Enjoys the nice scents you add to his hair as well.

"Oi- I like the Candy Apple scent more-"

Sanji

Oh Sanji is a sap for this, Taking your willingness to care for his hair as a show of love- however that's for you to decide if it is.

"If this is how we say we love each other I gladly accept~"

His hair can be a bit tricky, It's a lot thicker then most would assume and can hold scents of whatever he was cooking. Paired with the fact his hair will be lighter on top compared to the bottom due to the sun bleaching it. However he does love it and finds cleanliness important.

"Vanilla please my love~"

Luffy

He is a struggle- Getty Luffy lanky ass in the bath is a pain in the ass and washing his hair is even more troubling. His wide curls like just act as a magnet for everything it seems and you have to go picking through it.

"Is this a damn cookie?!"

Once you get his hair to be a untangled it's really pretty. Dark shiny curls that reflect the sunlight like a halo. While he still fussed he's more willing as time goes. Will randomly talk about whatever comes to mind, or eat snacks as you comb through his hair.

"I like the Ocean Breeze soap more (Y/N)"

Zoro

Oh Zoro- He tries to dodge you every chance he gets. It takes you catching him when he was hiding in the storage closet and ended up falling asleep.

"You smell like a barn- Move you ass..." You will threaten. Making him grumbled but comply non the less.

He's just as bad as Luffy but will just sit and pout as you wash his hair. Luckily it's short but it can get very oily- especially with how much he trains. You will also help him trim his hair, keeping it as even as possible. While he doesn't say it, he does appreciate the care. Will fall asleep as you do his hair.

"Mint- Mint is fine..."

Usopp

While you do wash his locs for him most of your time is spent separating and retwisting them. Buying good oils for his hair and spending a least and few solid hours retwisting the new growth on his hair.

"How does your hair grow so fast?!"

You question as you sort through the locs one by one and every two weeks washing them and reapply products to them. Usopp appreciates the help truthfully, since it takes away something he has to do for himself. He will tell stories as you do his hair, talking about made up adventures and tell jokes.

"Hmm I am tied between the Coconut scent or the Passionfruit both remind me of this amazing adventure I had once-"

He picks both.

Mihawk

Mihawk is used to doing his own hair, smoothing it back to fit under his had with ease. However when your jolly ass appears it seems you must take control of the situation.

He doesn't mind however, enjoying the pampering. Enjoys the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair. His Hair needs some serious moisture so you add a small bit of oil to it, Especially since his hair is surprisingly thick, dense and likes to frizz. It's not surprising to find some fuzzies from his hat in his hair as well.

"Your hair spikes up so much- Like a chicken ass-"

Will grumble in disagreement of the comparison however continues to let you handle his hair, will also take care of his beard and adds nice beard balms as well as line it up for him- If he feels like letting you. Will read while you do it and sip his favorite wine.

"The bergamot scent is very nice-

#x reader #one piece imagine #one peice live action #one peice x reader #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece luffy #one piece usopp #dracule mihawk #zoro roronoa x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader

[lyssaluvs]

Just Play the Part

(Luke Castellan x Fem!Dionysus!Reader)

Summary: A makeover from Silena and the Aphrodite girls gives you the confidence boost you need.

A/N: this took me so bloody long it's borderline embarrassing. also luke is so out of character it almost makes me sick but whatever. god this is so short, i'm so sorry.

Warnings: Use of Y/n, reader is described to have curly hair but that's about it.

Children of Dionysus are rare, daughters even more so. As a matter of fact, you were the only one. To your knowledge… Before you came to Camp Half-Blood, you were an only child, and when you arrived, you suddenly had a much larger family that you did before. A father, brothers, it was fantastic, it felt amazing to have the family you had always dreamed of. However, with a somewhat absent mother, apparently no sisters, and not a whole lot of friends, let alone female ones, you had had little to no feminine influence in your life. This resulted in you becoming a bit of a tom-boy. It’s not that you didn’t want to embrace your femininity, you just didn’t know how.

“Oh goodness, those curls are a mess.”

“That outfit certainly isn’t doing her any favours.”

You heard the whispers as you walked past the small group of Aphrodite girls. As a child of Dionysus, you had quite a talent for theatrics, as well as being prone to sarcastic remarks, so you just couldn’t help but snap back.

“Can I help you?” You asked the group of girls, hands on your hips with your brows furrowed.

“Actually, we were wondering if we could help you…”

---

You now found yourself sat in a surprisingly comfortable barber-style chair in the bathroom of the Aphrodite cabin.

“Sorry I got defensive; I’m not really used to talking to girls much.” You apologise to Silena once again. 

“Stop apologising! We love having a new girl to give makeovers to. And who knows, maybe this will give you the confidence boost you need to finally talk to Luke, since he’s obviously too shy to talk to you first.”

You cast your gaze downward as a warmth spread across your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, you’re not that obvious. I just have a knack for these kinds of things, comes with being an Aphrodite kid. Luke, however, is about as subtle a sledgehammer. Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” She paused combing your hair to look you in the eye.

You just shrugged.

“The lingering touches when he corrects your stances, yearning stares…” She awaited your reaction and when she was met with a befuddled expression, she continued.

“Oh my god, you’re oblivious. Here’s what you’re going to do. Once we’re done here, you’re going to walk right up to him, and ask him out. There’s no way he’ll say no, so don’t try that excuse. And I’ve seen you on stage, you can certainly play an outgoing character, so if you’re going to use the shy excuse, I’ll tell you to just pretend you’re on stage.”

---

It had been almost two hours and your makeover was finally over. Your curls were healthier than ever, your nails were painted, light makeup had been applied, and you had never felt more beautiful. You looked at your outfit in the mirror, taking note of the way the new flare jeans were much more flattering than your previous daggy cargos, and your camp tee now a size smaller and no longer drowning you.

“You’re lucky orange suits you, now go get your man!” Silena pushed you out the door, giving your butt a playful smack on the way out.

---

Feeling more confident than ever you approached Luke while he was practicing his swordsmanship in front of the setting sun, alone, as he usually was at this time of day.

“Luke”

The brunette boy turned around so swiftly he almost lost his footing. He looked you up and down and swallowed heavily.

“Y/n, you look ama- “

“Do you want to go out with me?” The words shot out of your mouth before you could stop them. Regardless of Silena’s reassurance, if he did end up rejecting you, you wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

His jaw dropped and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.  The two of you stood in silence for a few moments as you waited for an answer.

“It’s fine if you don’t. I’ll just go.” You began to turn around.

“YES! Sorry, yes, I want to go out with you. Please. I really want to go out with you.”

It seemed his voice had finally caught up with his mind.

Hmm… He’s cute when he rambles…

@elz-zalarrr this one's for you!

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

#percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #pjo tv show

[forlix]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.

— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes

𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡

[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love

“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes. 

You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.

Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.

You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.

With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”

“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”

“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.

“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.

You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.

You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.

All your doing, by the way.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.

“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."

Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.

“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.

And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.

“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.

With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.

“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.

“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."

Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”

He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.

“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.

“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”

You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."

Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.

You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”

But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.

He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.

When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.

As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.

Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”

You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.

“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.

“Of course, what else—”

“—don’t take your eyes off me.”

And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.

He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.

“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.

“Break a leg,” you return drily.

The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.

Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.

Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #k-labels #skz imagines #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids #skz #*minific #*writing #I LOVEEED writing this dynamic more than anything i've been wanting to play around w/hyunjin's personality more and this satiated me so bad #i might write more of these two tbh. i adore them already

[satoruhour]

HIHII hope you are doing well!!!

I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!

Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-

HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗

-🍒

I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !

a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning

wc: 8k (sigh ....)

warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.

you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.

this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.

geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.

one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.

[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!

[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!

[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream

the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.

exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.

at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.

“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”

he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.

ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ

“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”

professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.

you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”

geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’

“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.

you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.

this never stops—

“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.

“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.

“what was that?”

“nothing—”

he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .

“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.

“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.

“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”

“then just find a reliable one.”

you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.

“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.

“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”

“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”

“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.

“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”

your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.

even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.

you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.

you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .

. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.

chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”

“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.

“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.

“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.

[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!

but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.

geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.

what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?

“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”

“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”

“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”

you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”

“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”

you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.

chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.

“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—

click.

The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:

you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.

“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.

you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—

[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....

but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.

“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.

“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”

[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho

[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr

of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.

[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him

[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf

[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp

“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.

“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”

you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”

your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?

wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.

“. . hm? what was that?”

“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.

“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.

“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.

geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”

“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”

you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.

[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!

[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho

by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.

and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.

you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.

“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”

the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.

“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”

“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.

and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .

but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.

“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”

professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”

you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”

“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”

“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.

with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.

“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.

“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”

you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”

that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.

[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........

“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”

“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.

“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”

and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.

“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.

it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.

professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.

“to who do i owe the pleasure?”

“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”

geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.

“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”

“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.

“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”

“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”

professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.

“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”

geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.

“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.

“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”

your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.

“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.

you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”

you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”

you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”

“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.

“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.

“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.

“go on.”

“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.

“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”

a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.

“that’s right.”

“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”

geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.

“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.

“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.

“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”

with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”

geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.

“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”

“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.

“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.

“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.

“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”

you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.

“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.

“better than you imagined?”

you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”

geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.

“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.

“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.

“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.

“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.

“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.

“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.

“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.

“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”

you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.

“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”

“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”

“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?

“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.

“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”

“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”

you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?

“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”

geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”

you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.

“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.

“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.

there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”

geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.

“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”

“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.

“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—

“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”

those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.

“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”

geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.

your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.

“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”

tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai &lt;3 ok gn

#kinda hate how this turned out goodnight loooooool #luna u sending in that ask made me think of this song LMFAOOO and i rlly didnt know what title to use so i just... dumb dick i guess LMAOAO #asks #🍒 anon 2 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #getou suguru #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto x you #getou smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #jjk thirsts #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru #getou x reader #suguru geto #getou x you #suguru x reader