#<- got no effort to come up with a fancy name this time

[featheryhoe]

Today was a day like any other…

or at least, it would be if the Sin of Lust himself hadn’t woken up.. as a child?

˚₊‧ ⊱✿⊰ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧ ⊱✿⊰ ‧₊˚

Kid Ozzie is around 5

His text is pink

Like for Old Memories he’ll recognize everyone he met in Heaven and won’t recognize anyone he met in Hell

sorry if this is more effortless than Old Memories, this was more out of boredom and less a structured arc T^T

tags: @penguinmaster9999 @aspenvelaz @velaz-kids @headlessdeaddancer @fizzythefrog @ask-the-archs (i’m dragging you all in this >:) /j) /nf

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[kamesama]

Hiii, I have a request! Ok so hear me out, what if Sukuna finds another woman and replace reader. make it as angsty as possible with a happy ending pretty please with a cherry on top🥹

you have no idea how excited i got when i read this, and then i got disappointed when i ( after my 3rd time reading the request ) noticed you said a happy ending. BUT SINCE IT HAS A CHERRY ON TOP, i will oblige. i would have made this worse if it wasn't for the happy ending.

— favourite: ryōmen sukuna.

— notes + warnings: *cracks knuckles* utter, sheer, disgusting sensation of feeling replaced; jealousy; mentions of self-loathing; mentions of intimacy/intercourse ( sukuna sleeping w/ another woman, etc ); implication of violence / cruel sukuna moment ( what do you expect? ); happy ending tho ( ? ); hurt/comfort ( ? ); unspecified but it's heian era / true-form! sukuna; concubine w/ an attitude! reader. — word count: 1224

oh, to be the apple of one’s eye — utterly adored, all-too-greatly desired, cherished beyond measure. irreplaceable.

oftentimes you felt like so, when sunken into the mattress for the sake of being ravished. when preyed on by an intense blood-hued gaze. when cradled almost gently upon the throne that was sukuna’s lap. 

but how foolish of you to think that you were the single person privileged to chant his name in ecstasy. how adorable of you to think that only your fingernails could claw down his back to leave incoherent trails of pleasure you always lost yourself in. how pathetic of you to think that it was solely your own luxury to occupy the spot upon his thighs. how audacious of you to think that your lips, and your lips alone, were entitled to the act of worshipping his skin; from the sharp angle of his jaw, down his beating pulse, across the expanse of his broad chest. how bold of you to think that your tongue was the single one capable of conjuring up tales that could tickle his fancy and shackle his interest and entertain his unpredictable whims. 

and so, you pondered. when another had come to occupy his chamber after dark, with her lush skin and silken hair and slender legs, you pondered, for what else could you possibly do, contained between the walls of your room? 

have you rotten already?

you’ve seen her march and stomp to his chamber, leaving an invisible trace of the scent so strong you could swear it still haunted your nostrils. her lips glistened in the candlelight as if coated with a thick layer of honey that she must have rubbed into her tongue and gums earlier that eve. she wore her eroticism proudly; the subtle arch of her mouth was an aphrodisiac of its own. 

the walls were always thin, but that night, they seemed thinner than ever. you could swear you’ve heard every gasp, every moan, every writhe. the curl of her toes, the grip of her slender digits at the sheets as her back arched in that wondrous curve. did his lips touch every inch of her body? from the saccharine spot on her neck to the delightful mounds on her chest? the thin skin of her hip; the lush softness of her thighs?

did his tongue utter praises of her performance, of her appearance, of her? did he claim her with nothing short of delight coursing through his accursed veins?

the sole thought made you so sullenly disappointed. your own bedding had never felt colder.

“you look miserable, woman. what is it with that attitude?” as blunt as ever, sukuna questioned, his knuckles sunken into his cheek as he watched you peel a pomegranate. despite the skillfulness faithfully coating your movements, your digits remained stained with the rich hue of the fruit’s insides; despite the effort to be flawless.

your lips pursed in response, a small sign of displeasure standing hand-in-hand with reluctance. perhaps you are acting coy — sukuna concluded — lacing your foul mood with a girlish act and bratty demeanour. not that it would render him surprised. rather, it tickled his curiosity, fueled his fantasy, and made him just a tidbit of something somewhat akin to concern.

“speak, princess,” he cooed, deciding to humour your wits with barely a mouthful of niceties. he leaned back in his seat, patting his lap with one of his hands, whilst one rested on the thigh of his other leg. the remaining two were crossed over his chest either out of boredom or superiority; or perhaps both. 

you wanted to disobey; to turn your head away with a huff as your fingertips dug into pomegranate seeds. to maintain your shred of pride, wearing your displeasure with a sense of dignity out of sole respect for all the umbrage and anguish lulling you to sleep on the nights when you weren’t worthy enough. 

but you didn’t.

almost too eagerly, you put away the fruit into a bowl to bleed, nearly crawling to his lap. despite the willingness of your body to nest so closely against his, however, your face remained with its little scowl, your eyes almost overfilled with chagrin. 

“am i not your favourite?” 

the audacity soaked your words, dripping heavily off them. sukuna sensed it; the thickness of envy in your voice, and all the more loathing that nearly looked like some deranged form of self-pity.

his slit brows rose up, his crimson gaze intense enough to have made you feel that — if he were to look just a little deeper into your eyes — he would see the way your hands massaged your own breasts as if to grasp whether or not they were shapely enough; the way you trailed one same line underneath your eye time and time again in an attempt to determine if sleeplessness has made you revolting.

“why should you desire another to warm your bed?”

a grin tugged at the corners of sukuna’s mouth as a sense of understanding weighed on his shoulders. a small hum of acknowledgement sounded from the top of his throat, his eyes closing as he took your stained hand and brought it up to his lips.

“so that’s what this is about,” he mused, his tongue shamelessly trailing across your digits to lap up the sour sweetness coating them, “jealousy is a pesky thing, little one.”

“i don’t care,” you scoffed, trying to ignore the way he gently sucked on the tip of your finger before looking at you, one of his hands absentmindedly caressing up your thigh through the silken material of your clothing, “it should be me. just me. i am the only one you summon to peel your fruits and to accompany you while you write, so why call upon another to please you at night?” you demanded. it seemed to amuse him all the more.

he raised a brow at your words and their curious tone, “you’re forgetting your place, woman,” he spoke coldly, yet the edge of his statement was somewhat softened by a dash of entertainment. nonetheless, it was enough to send shivers down your spine as his fingers sunk into your cheeks, making your luscious lips pucker. he observed your features; that small tidbit of defiance standing in defence of your vulnerability, your need, your craving. it made him grin with a certain kind of wickedness.

“but i do suppose that makes you my favourite,” he uttered, “no one else would dare be such an audacious thing…” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, parting your mouth open just enough to catch a glimpse of the pink flesh inside, “i could rip your tongue out for your insolence,” he cooed slowly, as if imagining your bleeding mouth, filled to the brim with crimson, “and you’d still be just as pretty.”

a shiver ran down your spine enough to make your bones feel frozen to the marrow, yet his touch left your body scorched; blood boiling with desire for whatever wicked debauchery his mind could conjure up.

“but i do appreciate your tales. very much so.” he spoke, easing his grasp on your face, instead morphing it into an almost appreciative caress.

the uncharacteristically gentle kiss planted to your brow seemed to calm your pounding heart for a mere few moments.

“perhaps i have some reminding to do.”

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[jyoongim]

Can I request an Alastor x reader where she is a newer sinner. Really nerdy, obsessed with history, fun facts, animal facts, and shy at first. Just says things randomly, like “did you know that if a cow has twins more often than not she abandons ones just rearranging things when bored, someone will come down to lobby in the middle of the night and there she is moving the couches at like 3am. Doesn’t think when she speaks when she sees Alastor in his overlord form just says something like “smash” before walking off. Kind of a this gives me conflicted feelings and made me learn something about myself I don’t think I should know. It can be smut or fluff I don’t mind! My friends just say I have adhd, never been tested, don’t wanna be lol, I just ramble when I get excited and talk too much or too loud when excited too. It’d be nice to see a reader like me :) thank you love! I’m trying not to ramble so I’m sorry if this all over the place!

Hehehe could be possible adhd but I’m also certain everyone has a touch of tism as well so you’re not alone hehehe.

(I too have undiagnosed adhd)

Typing this from my phone cause I’m scared to do it on my work computer😭 should have brought my iPad to work

————————————————————————-

You had always been…different.

When you were alive you spent most of your time doing your hobbies or reading. You weren’t much of a social butterfly but did make the effort every once in a while. But people always treated you like you were an annoyance.

You were strange. Even by demon standards.

But you made a lovely addition to the Princess of Hell’s hotel.

You enjoyed being about to sprout random facts and have people actually be interested.

Animals, history, science you name it you randomly knew it.

You rambled during bonding excersies until you caught yourself yapping and instantly apologized.

You talked to yourself (having been caught in the act more than once)

Husk called you a loose screw but Angel found it charming. Charlie thought you were just the cutest.

And Alastor….

Well you definitely piqued his interest.

————————————————————————

You and Angel were having a “self care” day. Well Angel was. You were just happy to play in his fluff. Angel was telling you about the latest shoot he had to do and then the subject jumped to saying lives. “Oooh cmon toots don’t tell me no one’s were had the hots for that brain of yours” you pin curled his hair, “hmmmm not that I know of. Besides most people think I’m strange, wouldn’t want to scare the masses”

Angel rolled his eyes “well what about here at the hotel? Anyone catch yer fancy?”

You think about it but your mind comes to a blank. Nope you couldn’t in point who you would be the SLIGHTEST but interested in.

The sound of shoes met your ears and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby. Your ear perked up and your eyes immediately locked in.

You would say you and Alastor were friends. The two of you had great conversations, he listened to your rambles and always told you facts of the time period when he was alive.

He wasn’t in his usual pristine attire. Instead of the polish look, he was dressed more casual. A white button up, rolled at his elbows, wearing dress pants and suspenders, he even didn’t have his gloves on.

He paid no mind to the two of you in the lobby, seemingly in his own world.

“Smash” you said tilting your head, causing Angel to burst out laughing and you blush when you realized you said that out loud.

Alastor turned around, eyebrows quirked “something amusing was said?”

You quickly shook your head while Angel chuckled “Our fact machine here thinks you’re hot*

Alastor blinked, his eyes settling on you.

You wanted to hide in the couch from embarrassment, but Alastor just took a sip of his coffee and began to walk from where he came. He got to the hallway door because pausing briefly, turning to look at you over his shoulder

“I suppose I would ‘smash’ you too dear”

Your cheeks burned and Angel choked as Alastor disappeared.

[iwritefandomimagines]

FAVOURITE PERSON — AJ (SWEETPEA)

masterlist

pairing: aj (sweetpea) x reader

description: in an attempt to get over your feelings for your best friend aj, you’re out on a date — but when aj calls to say he’s at your door with food, you can’t help but rush straight home to your favourite person.

warnings: bit of swearing but otherwise just fluff and cuteness and awkward confessions, may be a bit ooc as i’m still figuring out how to write aj !!! but hopefully you enjoy

author’s note: the aj fic drought needed resolving so i’m here to help! not well atm so it may not be my best work — i’ll come back and edit when i’m feeling better, just wanted to get this out <3 please please let me know your thoughts & enjoy!

———

“Oh just a second, I’d better get this.”

Your date, sat across from you in a bar you’d never normally frequent, looked less than impressed as you lifted your phone from the table and rose to your feet.

He’d seen the contact name before you’d had the chance to pick it up, but that was a conversation for later.

AJ was your best friend — and given that you’d not told him you were on a date, you didn’t want to leave him worrying if you didn’t answer given that you were usually chronically on your phone.

You slipped into the quiet of the ladies bathroom, pressing the answer button with haste.

“Hey AJ, what’s up? Sorry I—,”

“Have you got your headphones in or something?”

Your brows furrowed, “No, I’m—,”

“Well I’ve been ringing the doorbell for like ten minutes and I’m— shit, are you out? Shit, shit, shit, why didn’t I think of that?” you could practically hear him beating himself up for not considering the prospect sooner.

Why did your chest seize up at the idea of telling him you were on a date?

“Sorry,” you bit your lip, “Is everything alright?”

You heard him sigh, “In an apparent effort to win biggest idiot of the year, I’m at your door with an insane amount of Chinese food without having checked if you were even in the house first to eat it with me.”

“In your defense, you’re usually the only reason besides work that I do leave the house.”

That wasn’t a lie.

Since moving here, you’d made little effort to make friends.

You’d met AJ on your very first day in the area and clicked instantly, and now any spare time not reserved for binging shit TV was instead spent with him or, at most, his small circle of friends.

You’d toed the line between friends and something more for a long time, but given his awkward charm and the way women seemed to look at him (however oblivious he remained) — you’d never wanted to risk ruining your friendship by telling him it was something more that you wanted.

You’d settle for friendship, even if it was hard to ignore the butterflies that seemed to multiply in your stomach each time you were with him.

And that was how you’d found yourself on this stupid date, in a stupid skin tight dress and drinking cocktails you’d never touch with a man you could so far hardly even tolerate, let alone fancy.

Your attempt to move on from the schoolgirl crush you had on your best friend was so far proving immensely unsuccessful.

“Where are you, then?” he enquired, and you could tell he felt intrusive asking despite it being a totally valid question, “Since—since like you said, it’s unlike you. Not that you can’t be— I can leave you to it? More food for me.”

You gulped, eyeing the toilet cubicle door and considering how worthwhile this date really was.

“I’m just out for dinner,” you gulped, “But we’ve not ordered yet, I can leave.”

He coughed, “Oh nice, who wi— Oh shit, are you on a date?”

“It’s a waste of time, really. I’d rather be at home with you. In fact I’m craving chow mein, really.”

The embarrassment at your blurted honesty, combined with the guilt at calling your date a waste of time, made you want the earth to swallow you whole.

“You don’t have to say that, Y/N,” the disappointment in his voice was palpable, and you only hoped you weren’t imagining it.

“I’m not just saying it, AJ,” you sighed, “Why do you think I rushed off to answer the phone to you?”

He chuckled, believing you a little more now, “Who knows, maybe you were just worried I’d done something stupid and needed help from my best friend? Sorry, just had a long day at the Gazette and thought I’d burden you with my whining and sweeten the deal with some food.”

You shook your head, “I’ll be ten minutes, alright? Spare key is under the mat if you haven’t got yours — make yourself comfortable and don’t eat all the chow mein before I get there, okay?”

“Promise.”

—

Your date, whose name your AJ-hazed brain could barely remember, definitely did not believe your excuses for rushing out for a family emergency.

But you didn’t care — you’d sacrifice any chance of dating someone if it meant you could spend more time with AJ.

“Home, sweet home,” you announced the second you stepped through the door, your nose immediately catching the scent of the food AJ had brought over, “Fuck me, it smells good in here.”

Immediately AJ’s head peered round the door from your kitchen, about to make a jokey quip about how fast you’d arrived but stopping when he took the sight of you in.

The dress clinging to your skin was not like anything you usually wore, and for a moment you worried he was judging you for having gone out to meet a guy in such a low-cut daring outfit.

That fear dissipated, though, when you noticed the crimson blush staining his cheeks and the subtle bite of his lip that he tried to hide as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, you were, uh, quick,” he gulped, stepping out fully now and wiping his palms on his jeans, “Food’s all ready. You look—well, he’s a lucky guy— well, I guess he would’ve been. Or—or, he was for a bit. I’m—,”

You giggled, sauntering over to him and enveloping him in a hug, “It’s fine, AJ, I get your point. And thank you, but I’m going to have to get out of this horrible dress and into something comfy because I plan on eating twice my body weight and I can’t do that if I can barely breathe…”

“That’s cool, yeah sure,” you could see him trying desperately not to admire the way the dress suited your figure so perfectly, “I’ll just look for something to put on TV, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, before grunting when you realised how hard to reach the zip was. The cocktails you’d consumed so far had definitely gone to your head… Or at least that’s how you’d justify your next words, “Oh, do you mind helping me out with this stupid zip?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

Trembling fingers reached up with only a moment’s hesitation, the warmth of his hands against your skin making you jolt away from his touch at first.

He was quick as ever with his apologies, but as were you, “Sorry, your hands are just warm.”

In leaning back into his touch, your proximity grew a fraction closer, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he finally made work of your zip — agonisingly slowly.

You knew he was just nervous, but the slow pace with which he unzipped the dress made you involuntarily tip back your head a little, savouring the contact.

“Ah, I can breathe again,” you joked, straightening your neck in hopes he didn’t see your moment of weakness, though your words were only half true as said breath caught in your throat at his hand still lingering at your waist, “All this for a bloke I don’t even fancy.”

He laughed, a small chuckle that fanned warm air over your neck again and pricked goosebumps on your skin.

“What, you practically running home just for chow mein didn’t for a minute suggest that you weren’t into this guy,” AJ joked, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I didn’t just run home for chow mein, AJ,” you hummed, spinning around to face him and placing your free hand on his arm to steady yourself as the other held up your dress.

His eyes narrowed as he carefully considered your words, unsure whether he’d correctly read between the lines.

“I wanted to see you, dummy,” you rolled your eyes, melting under the gaze of his soft brown ones, “My favourite person.”

His grin couldn’t possibly have been any wider in that moment, “Your favourite, huh?”

“Oh c’mon AJ, you know you are,” you shook your head, “Annoyingly, actually. Anyway I’ll go and get changed, and then you can watch me eat like a pig and forget I stood here with my dress unzipped boosting your ego, yeah pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy?” he smirked, raising his palms for a moment as you teasingly flipped him off and walked off to get changed, returning moments later in shorts and a tank top.

You both plated up your food in comfortable silence, curling up on the sofa and devouring your food in front of the TV with continued quiet, acutely aware that you were sat even closer than usual and your previous conversation was still lingering in the air.

Placing his empty plate on the coffee table, AJ cleared his throat, “So, uh, what was the problem with this guy then?”

You gulped, “Just wasn’t interested. Not my type? And we went somewhere shit.”

“Right,” he nodded, “Yeah, no, I get it.”

“I meant what I said,” he was so close to you again now, and something about the proximity made you brave again, “I wanted to be with you, that’s the reason I rushed home. I like nights in with you.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” he was staring into your eyes with such intensity you thought you might pass out, “I like nights in with you too.”

“Look, AJ—,”

“Can I say something really stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, “Sounds ominous, but of course. Anything.”

“I really like you,” he said with urgency, “Like, really like you. Like more than friends like you. And I hope this doesn’t mess our friendship up, and I’m sorry if it does, but you came home in such a rush from that date and I was so relieved and I just got a little hopeful because I feel a bit, like, sick at the thought of you going on dates with other people and I liked that you wanted to—to be here with me instead.”

Your heartbeat sped up exponentially, the thrum so loud against your chest you were sure he too could hear it.

“If it’s not obvious, I really like you too,” you leaned in a little closer, your legs touching now, “The idea of you with anyone else makes me feel a bit sick too. Very, actually. I’ve been so worried about ruining things between us but then you were here and then you helped me with my dress and I—,”

“I had to try so hard not to say anything when you—when you leaned back into me. And that dress…”

You blushed pink, a small smile gracing your features, “I was hoping you’d not noticed, especially because I assumed you’d judge me for such an un-me dress that hardly left much to the imagination…”

“Oh it still left plenty to be desired,” he paused, “Oh wow that sounded creepy. It wasn’t supposed to. You looked gorgeous, I mean you always do, but I only didn’t like it for like a fraction of second out of stupid jealousy that you’d dressed up for him, whoever he is.”

You giggled again now, reaching out to interlace your hands as you bit your lip. It was a relief to have your feelings out in the open, even if you weren’t yet sure what this meant for you.

“So where wouldn’t be a shit place for a date?”

You clicked your tongue, feigning deep thought for a moment, “I think the company was more the issue. I’d drink tacky cocktails and eat shitty food if it was with someone I really liked.”

He nodded, his usual tight-lipped shy smile returning for a moment, “Great — I’d really like to take you on a proper date soon.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant you, huh,” you poked out your tongue, watching his eyes flit to your mouth as you did so, “No seriously though, I’d love that.”

Comfortable silence resumed for a moment, until his left hand reached up to pull you into his lap and his right one rested on your jaw, his lips capturing yours in a kiss.

You settled in his lap immediately, arms circling his neck as you reciprocated the kiss enthusiastically, heart hammering against your chest.

You weren’t sure quite how long you stayed like this, pulling back only to gaze at each other for a moment and catch your breath every once in a while.

“Mm,” AJ’s hands both held your face now, the pad of his thumbs soothingly rubbing over your cheekbones, “We should probably put a movie on, as much as I could stay like this forever.”

You bit your lip, “It’s been a long day, I’m actually a little tired.”

For a moment AJ looked confused, and then disappointed, and it took a lot for you not to giggle at his clear misinterpretation.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I can go,” AJ fumbled, dropping his hands to his side, “Sorry, I didn’t think about the time.”

You shook your head, “Babe, I wasn’t trying to get rid of you. I was going to ask if you’d like to stay over.”

His eyes lit up again, a smile returning to his kiss-smothered lips, “Oh— yeah, yeah, I’d love that.”

He was almost smirking now, scooping you up in his arms and quickly clicking off the television as he turned towards your staircase.

You leaned into him further, pressing a small kiss to his neck, “I could get used to this.”

“Believe me, so could I.”

———

ok once again i lost my way half way through and this was a slog to finish because i haven’t figured out how best i can write AJ yet … but it’s my longest fic in a while & i hope you enjoyed!!! please let me me know what you think and feel free to request more aj imagines, and if you’d like to read more of my works, here is my masterlist <3

[vinvantae]

How drivers (+Toto Wolff) would react coming home from a race to find you’d fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for them to come home (part 2!)

Part one with the current grid here !!

See below the cut

Jenson Button

Jenson could not wait to see you, the best part of his weekend was coming home to you - so when he finds you dozing on the sofa, he can’t help but carefully jump onto the couch, hands resting either side of your head. Jense! You scared me! But you couldn’t stay mad with the way he grinned at you - he’d lean down and nuzzle his nose against yours, pulling a giggle from you before pressing a longing kiss to your lips - making up for all of the time you were apart. And with a soft hum, your arms would come to wrap around his neck and deepen it further. And as he pulled back, just enough to be able to look into your eyes, he’d tilt his head playfully - his grin morphing into a smirk …so now that you’re awake?

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Mark Webber

Mark knew you well, despite your best efforts, you would always pass out waiting up for him so it was easy for him to get around without waking you. That wouldn’t stop him popping his head into the living room to check in on you every few minutes - put away his shirts, checks on you, throws his dirty clothes in the laundry, checks on you. And then, after he’s full settled in and you’re still not awake? He’d crouch down beside the sofa and whisper your name - pushing the hair off of your face. And when your eyes finally opened and your face split into a massive grin, he really felt like he’d come home.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Sebastian Vettel

Whilst Sebastian wished he could just let you rest, every fibre of his being fought against him so instead he sat beside you and lent down. Meine Leibe… You keened as you felt soft kisses across your skin. Eyelashes fluttered against your skin before you finally opened your eyes to see Sebastian smiling down sweetly at you. Hi, sorry, I didn't mean to doze off. As you sit up, he’d wrap his arms around your middle - pulling you in close so he could tuck his face into your neck, enjoying your warmth. With a content hum, you’d loop your arms around his neck and let him hold you tight. You smell like the plane. He’d laugh, raising a teasing brow. Fancy helping me smell like home?

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Kimi Räikönnen

You’d always told Kimi it was fine to wake you, but he just wouldn’t. After draping the blanket over your body, he would hide away in a different room and keep himself busy until you eventually woke yourself up. When you wake, you didn’t even realise he was home until you stepped into the hallway to see his shoes nearly on the rack, coat hung up and keys in the bowl. You’d roll your eyes fondly before seeking him out and sitting yourself in his lap, extracting his phone or book from his hands. Been busy? Kimi would nod and kiss your cheek, quietly recounting what he’d been up to as you’d slept.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Mick Schumacher

Mick was a cuddle fiend - his friends would often tease him about his need to be wrapped up in your touch. Whether it was his arms around you or vice versa, he could just never get enough of you. So when he got back from a long session on the simulator to find you asleep on the couch, he would push himself into your arms. Micky, hey. You chuckled as he laid on top of you, grumbling into your neck about how tired and achy he felt. He was like your own personal weighted blanket, and you gently stroked his hair as it was his turn to doze off.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Toto Wolff

As desperate as you were to wait for up Toto, one of your favourite things in the world was feeling his strong arms tuck underneath your body - pulling you into his chest as he carried you upstairs. You snuggled up into his hold and he chuckled softly, sorry Schatz, didn’t mean to wake you. With a gentle kiss to your forehead, he’d lay you on the bed - manoeuvring the sheets so he could pull the duvet over you before climbing in alongside you, so you could curl your body against his strong chest. He held you close and let his own eyes close before the two of you would drift off together.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Arthur Leclerc

Arthur felt exhausted as he stepped into the house, pushing off his shoes and just dumping his bag in the hall before looking for you. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he saw you passed out on the sofa - cheek squished into the cushion. Carefully, he squeezed into the space beside you and pulled the blanket over you both, moving your head to rest it carefully on his chest. You didn’t wake until a little while later, yawning and sitting up so you could look down at the body underneath you - the driver fast asleep. Arthur… you lent down and pressed kisses to his cheeks, nose, lips over and over until his pretty eyes fluttered open. Hey, this is pretty comfy, huh? He’d grin and pull you back into his arms. Who said you could go anywhere?

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Liam Lawson

The Kiwi driver hummed softly as he tidied up the living room - cleaning up your abandoned cup of coffee, putting away your book and turning off the TV. You were usually always awake to greet him when he got back so seeing you dozing so peacefully made him smile. He wanted to hug and kiss you but you looked so content in your sleep that it didn’t feel right. But when you finally stirred he was elated, rushing to your side. About time, was getting bored without you, sleepy head. You’d scold him for not waking you, of course, but as soon as he pressed a kiss to your lips to shut you up, you’d smile and sink into his hold. Just glad he was back.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Pato O’Ward

Pato usually bound into your shared space like an over-excitable puppy, throwing his things around and calling out for your attention. But when he arrived home particularly late from a training session, he tried his best to be quiet - unsure if you’d even still be awake at this time. The sight of you sleeping on the sofa, a blanket only over your lower half, are you still watching written on the tv screen - cheered him right up. He was so happy to see you’d tried to stay awake for him. Mi Luna… He’d whisper, brushing his thumb over your jaw. Pato, mi Sol. You’d whisper back, before pulling him into an almost bone crushing hug. Never leave me again.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

Hope you enjoyed 💙

[toomuchracket]

under the full moon (d word matty x reader fluff)

calling it fluff is misleading they are 3 seconds away from raw sex at all times in this fic. promptober, pre-dating, charli just cockblocked them (well, interrupted an almost-kiss) at new year... enjoy <3

“oi - why haven't you got a drink?”

you look up from your conversation with someone famous whose name you've already forgotten. george is frowning at you, usually-sharp eyes hazy with tipsiness; you're quite impressed at his commitment to his hosting duties in the midst of such inebriation, to be honest. “your missus dragged me in here and into a convo before i could get one, that's why.”

“that girl,” he shakes his head. suddenly, you're on your feet, being tugged towards the kitchen before you can even apologise to the actress - rachel? - you were chatting to. “come on. can't have you dehydrating.”

“there's no risk of that, george,” you grumble, stumbling along in an effort to keep up with him and his giraffe legs. christ, how does charli manage? “was out already, remember?”

“yeah, i know. matty wouldn't stop fucking moping about you not being here earlier.”

you beam.

“actually,” george continues. “he keeps moping whenever you're not around, to be honest,” he stops abruptly; only once you've bounced back from him do you notice his mischievous grin. “i think he fancies you.”

you beam even wider.

as if it's news to you, though - you did nearly just snog matty outside.

“don't tell him i told you that, though,” he's walking again. “he's battered me for doing that before.”

“tried to batter you, i assume.”

“exactly,” george pulls you into the kitchen, weaving through people and conversations and what you think is a drinking game, stopping when he reaches the fridge. “alright. what you drinking?”

you don't answer, too preoccupied with staring at matty across the room. a spike of jealousy spears you as you watch him talk to a charli and a girl you don't recognise, long dark hair trailing down her back, but you're appeased when he catches sight of you and smiles; you copy his expression, and neither of you break eye contact. that is, until george waves his hand in front of your face. “hellooooooo? anybody home?”

“fuck off, i was thinking.”

“making eyes at my best friend is what you were doing, actually.”

“you're seeing things, george. maybe you're going insane.”

“what d'you mean going?” matty's arm finds its way around your waist. “he's been insane as long as i've known him, darling.”

you rest your head on his shoulder. “well, i didn't want to be impolite.”

“sweet girl,” he presses a gentle kiss to your temple; you do your best not to swoon, and he turns to his best friend. “i'll sort her with a drink, mate, s'alright.”

“but thank you for bringing me through for one, george,” you squeeze his hand, and he smiles as he bids you goodbye and speedwalks off to god knows where. biting back a cheeser of a smile, you turn to matty, loosely slinging your arms around his neck. “hello again, gorgeous.”

“hi,” he replies softly, cheeks tinting pink under the spotlights in the ceiling - your body fizzes with excitement about the fact that you can elicit such a reaction from him. matty's hands move to rest on your hips, and it's your turn to blush. he smiles. “missed you after we came inside. where did you end up?”

“charli got me talking to a couple of people, s'all.”

“yeah, me too.”

“i saw,” you raise your eyebrows, playfully. “she trying to set you up?”

“dunno. wasn't paying attention,” his thumbs gently rub little circles into the satin of your dress. “was a bit preoccupied thinking about someone else.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he smirks. “what about you, pretty girl? she have you talking to boys she thinks you'd want?”

“nah, just a girl she thought i'd find cool. which she was right about,” you stretch, deliberately arching your body further into his and savouring the way his breathing changes. “but she would've been wrong if she'd had me chatting to boys like that,” your eyes flick to matty's slightly-parted lips, then back up to meet his gaze again. “you see… i want a man.”

matty exhales shakily. “god,” he half-laughs. “you're really fucking hot, you know. and,” he adds hurriedly. “you're beautiful. really. i mean, you're just… wow,” he grins. “gonna be thinking about this dress for a long time, trust me.”

“i hoped you'd like it. s'why i bought it.”

“babe,” matty rests his head on your shoulder, sighing happily (you hope so, at least) when you softly caress the back of his neck. he slowly lifts it up, whispering in your ear and making you shiver in the best possible way. “and i know this is forward, but… shall we go outside and finish what we started earlier?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you breathe, smiling as matty pulls away from you to take your hand. “oh, wait - i still don't have a drink.”

“i have wine,” there's a hint of desperation in matty's voice; he seems to realise this, clearing his throat and smiling bashfully. yeah, you're done for. “promised i'd have it, didn't i?”

nodding, you tap the handbag still hanging from your shoulder. “and i have cigs.”

“the perfect woman. shall we?”

you nod, and matty gently leads you towards the back door of the house (with a detour to the wine rack to grab a bottle of red), ushering you through throngs of people with a feather-light touch to your lower back; as soft as it is, the contact has butterflies emerging from cocoons in your stomach that you didn't know were there, and you're actually quite sad when he removes his hand to open the door for you. carefully watching your step in your heels, you exit into the garden, look up, and grumble. behind you, matty follows suit. “well, fuck.”

the garden is almost as packed as the house, cigarette and vape and joint smoke rising from the people below and disappearing in the moonlit sky - not quite the secluded romantic setting either you or matty had evidently imagined. scanning for any sort of uninhabited spot, you notice a slightly-hidden section of low garden wall, shielded from the rest of the outdoor space by an unkempt patch of hedge, and quickly tug matty towards it. he speeds ahead of you when he sees where you're headed, shucking off his suit jacket and laying it on the mossy wall. “there you go, sweetheart.”

“matty,” your eyes widen. “you can't lay your jacket there! that thing costs more than my rent!”

“first of all, you live in kentish town, so no it doesn't. second of all,” he sits, patting the fabric as a sign for you to join him. “the wall's fucking freezing, and you're wearing the shortest dress of all time and no tights. you need some sort of barrier, darling.”

huffing, you sit on the jacket. “s'not the shortest dress of all time.”

“i personally have no issue with the length. quite the opposite, actually,” matty winks, unscrewing the top of the wine and passing you the bottle. “sorry, i should've grabbed glasses.”

you shrug, taking a swig. “well, if i must share germs with someone here, you're the best choice,” giggling, you pass the bottle back to matty, and dig in your bag for your marlboros and lighter. “shall we?”

he nods, smiling; you love the way his eyes look, illuminated by the flame. “you do know how to make a man feel special, darling.”

you aren't sure how long you stay like that with matty, drinking and smoking and chatting and laughing. time moves differently when you're with him, the only way you can measure it being in disappearances - firstly of the wine in the bottle, then the four cigarettes you had left in that particular pack, and of the people leaving the garden in dribs and drabs. despite the ever-dwindling crowd nearby, neither you nor matty try to reenact the almost-kiss from earlier; both of you seem to sense something other than your bic lighter sparking here, and you're more than happy to keep kindling it through conversation than risking a wild blaze, or worse, a complete extinguishing. only when the early morning becomes too cold to bear do you go back inside, hand in hand and animated as you yap away.

matty's incredulous. “this is the classiest new year's event you've ever been to? this? look, darling - actually, don't,” he covers your eyes with his hand until you get back into the hallway. “someone clearly went too hard on the midori there.”

you wince. “awful stuff.”

“i'm with you on that one. you know i agreed to do body shots off ross after drinking it at a party once?”

“no.”

“oh, yeah,” he shudders. “far better in theory than in execution.”

“the shots as a concept? or the fact it was ross you were doing them with?” you tilt your head, smiling shyly when you catch yourself. “sorry. i've just never done body shots.”

matty stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at you in complete bewilderment. “are you serious?”

you nod.

“but… but you look like that!” he splutters, gesturing wildly to you. “nobody ever propositioned you to let them lick salt from you? really?”

“they did not,” you pause, face twisting into a smirk. “are you propositioning me for that, matthew?”

his jaw drops. it stays that way for a good few seconds, actually, before he blinks and gives a smirk of his own. “would you like it if i did?”

oh, the bastard. still - what's the use in lying? “i would. and,” you move to whisper in his ear. “i wanna get my tongue on you, too.”

he moans. actually moans. and while you're still reeling from that, he leans back, and shouts at the top of his voice. “george!”

the man in question comes skidding through. “what? what's wrong?”

matty grins. “have you got any tequila?”

***

“i cannot believe you're doing this with him.”

ross's wife - pregnant, therefore sober, therefore the only person who can be trusted with the components of the shot - carefully pours a little trail of salt onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder. you smile, hyper-aware of not moving and knocking the full shot glass tucked between your boobs or the lime wedge resting on the swell of the right one. “why?”

she hums. “i thought you had good taste.”

“don't make me laugh, i'll spill the shot!”

“sorry,” she smiles. “maybe we should get matty over here before that happens, yeah?”

“s'pose,” you take as deep a breath as your new accessories allow, as your friend steps to the side. “oi, healy!”

he turns away from his conversation with george and ross, pretty eyes lighting up when he sees you sat ready on the kitchen counter. four strides, and he's in front of you. “hi, darling. still wanna do this?”

you smirk. “wouldn't have a shot glass in my tits if i didn't,” your smile widens as his pupils do the same. “whenever you're ready, gorgeous.”

so quickly you don't have time to react, matty kisses your nose. “this, genuinely, is one of the greatest privileges of my life. thank you,” he leans back, breathing deeply as if to prepare himself, then slots himself between your legs. “right, here goes.”

time starts to move weirdly again, the second matty gets his tongue on you. at the first touch, your eyes close, something within you urging you to let your other senses take over for the experience; initially, you do, inhaling the heady mix of cologne and cigarette smoke that's just so characteristically matty, and getting goosebumps at the slow movement of his flat tongue against your neck. but then he moves, and you feel hot breath on your chest, and your eyes fly open to watch him duck down and take the shot glass between his lips. he's blushing, obvious from the heat of his cheeks against your tits, but the flirty confidence is there as always in his eyes when he leans back up to take the shot itself - by the time he leans back down to bite the lime on your tit, teeth grazing the soft skin, you think your cheeks must be even warmer than his. it isn't out of embarrassment, despite the fact that you're colleagues, or your entire friend group seems to be watching, but rather out of passion, a unique form of desire your body only reserves for matty and matty alone.

yeah, you're fucked.

your friends cheer as matty pulls the lime rind from his lips, setting it down with a smile and moving to look at you properly again. “how was that?”

“very, very fun. thank you, angel,” you pull him in for a hug, fighting the urge to press a soft kiss to his neck. “you're good with your mouth, matty,” leaning back, you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster. “can i show you how good i am with mine, now?”

surprisingly, he doesn't cave at that like you thought he might; instead, it's you who caves, heat bursting in your stomach when matty slides his thumb across your lips. he smiles. “let's do it.”

he's gone before you can respond, moving things off the kitchen table while you breathe shakily at the counter. of course, that isn't helped at all when matty unbuttons his shirt, throwing the fabric to ross (who grimaces) before draping himself on the table in a very delectable way. “salt!”

ross's wife rolls her eyes, but moves to help prepare matty the same way she did with you. charli staggers over to you, swigging champagne directly from the bottle - you take a swig of your own when she holds it to you, and she giggles. “what even the fuck is going on?”

“shots, babe.”

“yeah, i know,” she rolls her eyes. “but i mean, like, you and matty,” blinking, she looks over at the table. “you're about to lick salt off his stomach. s'a bit of a sexy thing to do with your friend.”

“well, he is my best friend.”

“you know what i mean!” she wails. “you're telling me you'd straddle your best friend, and lick him?”

you smirk, sneaky. “i'd straddle and lick matty, yeah.”

“jesus,” charli's head turns at the sound of both your names, and she shoves you towards the table. “well, now's the time.”

doing your best not to smile too widely, you wander over to stand beside the table matty's lying on. he really does look incredible like this, shirtless under the spotlights, salt dotted in little piles from his hip tattoo (slightly underhanded of him, you think) all the way up to the one adorning his chest, shot glass between his lips with a lime wedge balanced on top. incapable of resisting the urge to touch him, you stroke his hair. “hi, gorgeous. you ready?”

matty winks, humming out a laugh when you return the motion; the noise fades into something that could be a moan when you manage to pull yourself onto the table, crawling up just enough to be able to lean down and flatten your tongue against his hip, just like you've dreamt about for months. beside you, his hands clench and then clutch the table, and that sign that you've affected him spurs you on, has you deciding to crawl slowly up his body and collect all the salt in one continuous lick. you can't stop the little moan of satisfaction that leaves your lips, and it sends matty into overdrive - his chest heaves, moans of his own reverberating through it, and you actually hear your friends gasp (and shriek, in charli's case) and someone murmur something like “oh my god, i feel like i'm intruding” and several pairs of footsteps leaving the room; when the salt is gone, and you manage to detach your tongue from the delectable man below you, it becomes evident that you and matty are alone. alone, for the first time since your interrupted almost-kiss earlier.

fuck it. might as well take advantage of that.

with as saccharine a smile as you can muster, you “readjust” yourself on matty's lap, smile widening at the combination of the way matty's hands move to clutch at your hips and the feeling of him hardening beneath your (definitely wet) panties. placing a hand on either side of his head, you lean forward, slowly, grinning once again at the way his eyes flick between your chest and face; you hover over his lips for a moment, then take the glass from his with your own, throwing your head back (and grinding down on matty for good measure) as you swallow the tequila and bite the lime before laying the glass and rind down.

matty laughs, eyes sparkling. “you're a pro, darling,” his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up across your waist and back down. “you're also a fucking minx, you know that?”

you shrug. “well, you had me sit on your lap. what else was i to do, really, babe?”

“m'glad you did all that, sweetheart. makes this next bit easier for me, knowing how much you want me,” he smiles, warm and sweet. “what are you doing this friday night?”

“oh, that's easy,” you take his hands. “i'm going on a date with you.”

matty beams. “too fucking right you are.”

[bowsellie]

we have chemistry

warnings: college!ellie x college!reader, stoner!ellie, chronically ill reader (not specific, just mentions of fatigue and a medical accommodation for a single room for plot reasons lol), weed usage (Ellie and reader), mild language, briefly proofread, no use of y/n minors dni! smut in 3rd section! top!ellie, some degradation, praise (reader called a good girl, pretty girl, etc., ellie told she's doing a good job), SO MUCH CONSENT WE <3 CONSENT, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), aftercare.

💗💗💗

You didn't want to be taking organic chemistry. Nobody in that class did--not even the chemistry majors. But as finals season rolled around, you found yourself spending extra time to make sure that it would at least be worth your while. Needless to say, not everybody shared the same drive.

As the clock hit 8:49am on the last class before the exam, everybody started shoving their laptops away despite the professor's continuing drone. To your right there was an extra loud snap! as the student beside you--an auburn-haired girl you'd never seen before--shut the screen with finality. You shot her a glare, gently closing your notebook as people began to trickle out.

"You're smart, right?"

You angled your face towards the sound, assuming somebody was having a side conversation close by. Instead, you found yourself face to face with striking green eyes leaning to reach your line of sight.

"Hi. Yeah, you. You're using an actual notebook and have all the fancy pens and shit, so...are you smart?"

Your eyebrows drew together slightly as you shrugged with one shoulder. "I try, I guess. Um...why?"

One corner of the girl's mouth picked up. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've literally never been to this class before. My grade sucks. But I really don't want to retake this shit. Do you think you could help me?"

You stared at her incredulously, mentally calculating the equation of audacity and arrogance it must take to expect a complete stranger to help despite a clear lack of effort.

You opened your mouth slightly to say some variation of hell fucking no, who do you think you are anyways?, maybe you should have considered that before skipping literally every other class meeting when she stuck out her hand. "I'm Ellie, by the way. I'll pay you for helping me." When you hesitated to shake it, she added a "please".

You rolled your eyes, shaking the girl--Ellie's--hand with slightly too much force. "Fine. Whatever. Give me your number." You slid your phone across the table, already open to the contacts app, and watched as she typed.

"You're a lifesaver! Thank you..." she asked, pausing for your name. You gave it. "Thank you."

💗💗💗

Getting back to your dorm and settling into bed for a nap, you briefly texted the number now in your phone as "Ellie" with the last name "Wehavechemistry".

hey

Almost immediately, three dots popped up.

hey there. do you like my contact? lmao

i mean, we do have chemistry together. so like...sure?

no no no. i meant like...we have chemistry. wink wink nudge nudge. and my last name starts with a w so it's funny. do you get it?

...

it's funny.

yeah yeah sure. very funny. hahaha. anyways.

when did you want to come over? i'm free all weekend, and the final's monday. sooooo

oh shit

didn't realize the final was monday

ummmmmmmm how does tomorrow at 8pm work? do you have a roommate or something we need to accommodate for?

no, no roommate. tomorrow at 8pm works fine for me. see you then, ellie.

:)

Turns out, texting with Ellie wasn't all that insufferable. She was friendlier than you expected, and every time you put your phone down to try and fall asleep you found your heart beating too fast at every notification to actually put it down.

Instead, you kept the conversation going until 8pm the next day rolled around, when instead of a text you got three loud raps at the door.

Opening it up, you saw Ellie in the same hoodie as yesterday. This time, her hair was slightly damp and she smelled like...old spice and something pungent and earthy. Did she shower already?

"Hey," you said, suddenly feeling awkward and over dressed in your jean shorts and crop top, hair still done from that afternoon. "You can come in."

Ellie grinned at you as she slid in the door. "We have a semester of schoolwork to cover. Hope you're prepared for a long night," she said.

"Trust me, I am. Did you bring anything?" You asked, looking for a bag as she climbed on to your bed.

"Nope. Not school stuff, anyways." Curious, you tossed your notebook towards her and watched as she pulled a pre-rolled joint and lighter from her hoodie pocket. "I'm assuming you don't smoke since you're like, a nerd, but do you mind if I do?"

You shook your head, dropping your jaw in false offense. "How lame do you think I am? Just because I actually go to class doesn't mean I'm a nerd."

Ellie shot you a disbelieving look, but handed you the joint anyways as you joined her on the bed. "Here, have the first hit. As a thank you for helping me out."

She lit it for you as you inhaled, passing her the weed and opening your notebook. "If this keeps you from retaining information that's not my fault. Just saying."

"Trust me, I'm so alert right now it's crazy. All of tonight is gonna be stuck in my memory for a while."

💗💗💗

The room gradually grew darker, lit only by your adjusting lamp and the last smoldering ashes of the joint as you reached halfway through the notebook.

You breathed heavily through your nose, looking at Ellie seriously. "It's so late. We're not going to finish this tonight."

As she looked up at you, you suddenly noticed how much closer you two had moved over the course of the night. Had your thighs been touching the whole time? Has her breath always been so close it's hitting your cheek? Why did she have to smell so good?

Your own breath caught in your throat as she leaned even closer to you, placing a hand so close to your leg you could feel the fabric of her sweatshirt against her bare thigh. Almost imperceptibly, her gaze flickered down to your chest, now rapidly rising and falling.

"How set do you think I am for this stupid final?" Ellie asked seriously, a rasp in her voice either from smoke or the lowered pitch.

"You picked up on everything really well, so at least the first half I think you'll do fine."

She grabbed your left hand in both of hers, causing your breath to catch again. Her eyes flickered down again, this time lingering longer. Following her gaze, you noticed the top of your bra peeking out.

"Sorry," you said, quickly adjusting your shirt to cover it as heat spread through your body.

"No, no, you're fine. Sorry for looking," she said. You looked at her face, watching as her eyes seemed to trace the shape of your shoulders and the line of your throat.

The air thickened with tension, but you found yourself not wanting Ellie to leave yet. "So, why did you take this class anyways? If you didn't want to go?"

Finally, she met your eyes. "I need a chemistry for my major. Astronomy. I thought I would like this one, but didn't realize it was a fucking 8am when I signed up. By the time I realized I wasn't going to make it up that early it was too late to drop." She shrugged. "What about you? Big chemistry fan?"

You snorted. "Not really, but I also needed a chemistry for my major. I like the 8ams, it lets me have afternoons free to sleep. That's why I don't have a roommate--medical accommodations for fatigue or whatever." She nodded along, genuinely listening.

"Well, hopefully I don't have to retake this class. Next time there probably won't be a pretty girl willing to help me out."

You smiled at her, breathing sharply out of your nose in a laugh. "We'll see what we can do."

A beat of silence washed over you before Ellie pointed towards the pride flag on your wall with her chin. "So...are you..." She began, causing you to laugh full out this time.

"Yeah. Obviously, I'd hope, but if you're feminine people tend to assume otherwise I guess." You smiled and looked at her. "Are you?"

Ellie placed a hand on her chest. "I'm hurt you had to ask. I've been trying to flirt with you since I got your number, babe."

Oh.

"Oh."

She leaned back a little. "I can cut it out, if you want. I couldn't tell if you were into it or not."

Without giving her time to continue doubting, you sprung forward and attached your lips to hers. Threading your fingers in her hair and breathing in as you pulled back.

"So...you are into it?"

"I'm a little dense, Ellie. Don't let the color-coded notes fool you. But yes. Now that I know...I'm into it."

She smiled at you with one side of her mouth again, this time leaning forward to kiss you first. Lips opening slightly, you felt her body around yours as her hands found the bed and pushed you on to your back.

Ellie pushed her tongue gently into your mouth, settling between your legs as they fell open. As you felt her weight between your hips, you groaned a little.

Whining a little as she pulled away, your eyes fluttered shut as Ellie threaded her fingers through the hair by your ear. "Is this supposed to be my payment?" you asked, leaning into her touch.

"Shut up," she said playfully, leaning in to kiss you again. This time it was more forceful, teeth bumping against teeth as your tongues chased each other. Too focused on the overwhelming sensation of Ellie's mouth on your own, you broke the kiss to moan in surprise when you felt her knee push against your core.

Using the opportunity to trail her mouth down your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck, Ellie asked "is this okay, baby?" between kisses. You nodded before remembering she couldn't see you, instead responding with a slightly choked "yes."

In response, her lips attached right behind your ear as her teeth sunk into you and she began to suck. You groaned, bucking your hips against her knee. Kindly, she began to push it back into you, laughing into your neck as you continued whimpering.

"What?" you asked. "Why are you laughing?"

Ellie pulled away from the spot she had been working into your collarbone, meeting your eyes. "You're just so pretty. Can't believe I have you falling apart for me and I've barely touched you."

Your mouth fell open at her words, groaning. Ellie's mouth found yours again, her hands reaching for your tits over your shirt. "Can't blame me for looking at these," she said between kisses, "You look so good in this shirt."

"Take it off, then," you said. You sounded braver than you felt, your stomach doing absolute flips as the girl over you quickly complied to reveal your lacy nude bra.

"I like this," she said softly. "I want it off, though. Is that okay, pretty?" You nodded. The bra was nothing special--just comfy and the right color. If Ellie liked it, though, it was now one of your favorites.

Her mouth moved down your chin and neck to attach to your left nipple, bringing a hand to your opposite hip as she sucked and licked lightly. Your hips continued to buck against her knee, which was now stationary as you essentially rode her thigh.

Chuckling a little, Ellie looked up at you and began unbuttoning your shorts. "Knew you'd be needy. What kind of thoughts are you hiding from me?" she asked, pulling off your bottoms and panties in one go when you lifted your hips to help.

You smiled a little watching her eyes attach themselves to the spot between your legs. "What can I say?" you said. "Maybe I'm a little slutty if the right girl has me under her."

This seemed to light something in Ellie, who watched your face as she brought your face down to your pussy. Close enough to feel her breath, her eyes gleamed as she moved away from your hips chasing her.

"Please," you asked, voice breaking. "Please, Ellie."

"Guess you are a slut, huh? Begging for me already." Whatever response you had was cut off by a screaming moan as her mouth attached itself to you, immediately lapping at your clit before interspersing it with longer licks. Your legs shut around her face as your hands grabbed into her hair, pulling a little as you noticed the groan she made at the pressure.

"That feels so good, Ellie." Her motions sped up at this, and you hurriedly repeated the phrase as she focused more attention on your clit. Feeling everything tighten, you wrapped your ankles around her back as your hips lifted almost completely off the bed. Still attached to you, Ellie fully moaned as you pulled her hair and came over her face.

Whimpering softly as she pulled away, you audibly groaned when she looked up at you and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "You did so good, baby. Do you have another one in you?"

You quickly nodded, feeling words escape you. All you wanted was for her to say you did good again.

Ellie leaned into you, placing her head into the crook of your neck as her fingers ghosted lightly over your hips, stomach, and thighs. Finally, you felt them dip into the pool of wet that had collected in your cunt. Spreading the mix of saliva, cum, and arousal up to your clit and around your hole, she slowly pushed a slender finger into you. Your back arched off the bed when she began pumping it in and out, chuckling against your neck.

"Such a pretty girl. You're doing so good," she whispered. Your moans grew louder at her words and she pushed another finger in. "Good girl," she breathed, kissing your neck and jaw as she worked into you.

"Ellie," you gasped. "Ellie, please."

"What, baby?"

"Please, Ellie, please. Wanna cum."

You felt her lips quirk up against your collarbone as she added a thumb to your clit and a curl to her fingers. Quicker than you'd ever been able to get there yourself, you felt the tightening of your gut. She swallowed your moans with a sloppy kiss, gently catching your bottom lip between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue. She used her other hand to hold on to your hair at the scalp as you writhed, second orgasm shuddering through your body.

"Good girl," she said as she worked you through it. Sitting up, she wiped her fingers on your thighs before moving up up to let you rest your head on her chest. "You did so good, baby. My smart, pretty, good girl."

You whimpered a little, not prepared to speak just yet. Ellie seemed to understand and didn't push you, holding you and playing with your hair until you leaned back to smile at her.

"That was good. Thank you," you told her, leaning in for a kiss that tasted of your sweat and pussy.

Ellie broke away, moving the hand wrapped around your waist to grab something out of your back pocket. She placed it on your bare chest, tucking it between your tits.

"What do I look like, a prostitute?" you asked. "Much love to them, but..."

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "I mean, you fuck like a professional, but this is for helping me study."

You grabbed the bill and pushed it back into her pocket. "Save it for next time. We need to finish that notebook if you want to actually pass this class."

Ellie kissed the top of your head. "How does tomorrow work?"

A/N this is basically a self insert...my bad. tried to make it as inclusive to different readers as possible. let me know if there's anything I can improve on!! <3

[bellaveux]

kiss of a vampire | w. maximoff

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: injured and alone, wanda finds herself out in the middle of the night, searching for the one person she can trust to help her. on that night, you find out what she truly is.

content warnings: 18+ minors dni. vampire!wanda, human!reader, victorian era, blood, very tiny mentions of homophobia, loss of virginity (?), smut! making out, biting, marking?, soft sex, fingering and oral (r receiving), praising

wc: 3.9k

note: surprise this is my singular contribution for kinktober hehe, happy halloween everyone!

Fall of 1863 in New York was more or less an uneventful time of the year for you. Your mother insists you read as many books as you can find in the manor’s library, and your father insists you go out and attend all those fancy balls and infernal tea parties—all in an effort to make you more presentable for any of your future suitors. It made sense for them to do so. Your mother was a respectable woman in the town, and she married your father, a man of riches, all thanks to that company he founded many years ago. You could honestly care less, not really having to do anything but read your books all day. Occasionally, in the evening when the sun has already set and you got too fed up with turning pages, you went out for a walk down that nice, pebbled trail through the woods, leading you down to that stone bridge over the river.

That’s where you met her. Wanda.

The moon was out. The sun was gone. She didn’t wear a fancy dress like you did the first time you saw her. She wore an unbuttoned vest over her white, well-made dress shirt, black pants, and riding boots to match. Her hair was red, and for a moment, you thought her eyes were the same color. It went away when you blinked, and suddenly, her eyes were green. You had never seen a woman like her before, much less someone similar in town. All the ladies and their voluminous skirts really only had boys, and gossip filled their daily conversations. It was tiring to be around them, but being with Wanda was relieving.

She told stories. Of adventures. Of distant lands you could barely imagine. She’d tell you about the sea, the moon, and the world beyond this little town you lived in. You found solace during your time with her, and you began to look forward to your walks through the woods every evening you could. She’s always there. Like she knows everything… She was your friend. And each time you met her, your heart beat faster than you’d like to admit, and your stomach fluttered whenever you thought about her. You always wondered, does she feel the same? You supposed you’d never find out, because who in their right mind would confess to having feelings for another woman?

Forbidden. Unthinkable. Criminal. That’s what they would say about you. So, you stayed quiet.

During the latest hours of the night, sometimes you’d see the glow of torches outside your window. You hear the noises first. A woman screaming. Pitchforks and shovels thrown up in the air, metal and iron clinking against each other. The sounds of arrows cracking through wood. Monsters, your father would say. They lurk out in the night, waiting and waiting until they come up to their prey and kill… You’ve heard the stories of those vampires, wolves, demons or whatever it is they are. You found it hard to believe. Even more so that so many people are afraid of what they probably haven’t even seen.

But then you see Wanda again. Not on your walk through the woods. Not on the bridge. A quiet knock is what you hear first. You look up from your book in surprise, then see her outside your window, clutching her shoulder in pain. She’s seated on the edge of your window on the other side of the glass, giving you a weak smile despite seeing how confused and worried you were. You rushed over and opened the window immediately, telling her to get in—of course, after you yelled—or whispered, really—at her for showing up at this ungodly hour.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” You exclaimed as you pulled her into your room.

But the moment she winced in pain, you immediately pulled your hands back, afraid that you might have hurt her. You watch her move to lean against the wall underneath the window. She sighs in relief, still clutching her shoulder. Your gaze falls to her hand, right where you see the stains of red seeping through her dress shirt.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding…” You think out loud, carefully watching her as you hold your breath.

The faint glow of torches outside your window shows up in the corner of your eye—people bustling loudly in your street. You could see Wanda duck even further beneath your window, staring up at the ceiling as you began to put two and two together.

“No…” You shake your head and take a few steps back. “You’re the one they’re looking for, aren’t you?”

Wanda’s gaze softened as she turned to you. Her mouth opened for a moment to say something, but she sighed and laughed sheepishly to herself as she shook her head. Then, you see it in her smile.

She looked up at you again, with those kind and caring eyes you’ve seen on her from the moment you met her, “Please, don’t be afraid of me.”

“Your teeth…”

“I know,” she nodded. “But, I need your help. Please. I’m begging you.”

You didn’t know what to do. “Wanda.”

“They’ll come after me if you tell me to leave, (Y/n),” she reasoned, leaning up to show you she was telling the truth.

“Did you… Have you killed someone?” You could barely get it out.

“No!” She said, “I-I haven’t hurt anyone, I promise you! I-It’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him. He’s…”

“He’s what?”

Wanda sighs and turns away from you in shame. “He’s hungry. We… We haven’t eaten in weeks. He’s got a bigger appetite than I do… I-It’s harder to control him. I think he might’ve hurt someone tonight.”

You stare at her. Her eyes were red now. Her breathing was heavy. Her fangs darted out slightly past her parted lips. You take a second to process what she had just told you. And in truth, you should’ve been scared. You should have been throwing her out of the manor, calling for your father to deal with such a monster.

But to you, she was still… just Wanda. If she wanted to kill you, you’d imagine she’d already done it by now.

You left for a moment to head into your washroom in the corner your room where you tried to find all of the medical supplies you currently had. It wasn’t much—a wet rag, a few bandage wraps, and a kit for stitches. You returned with all the items in your arms, and Wanda looked up at you with a thankful smile.

You sat on the floor with her, your white nightgown bunching up against the wooden paneling. “I… I have bandages—”

Wanda shook her head, looking down to avoid your eyes. “Thank you… But, that won’t help.”

“What will?”

Her eyes bore into yours, but her mouth doesn’t move. She has that look on her face that tells you she's too embarrassed to say or ask for it. Her hands squeezed her shoulder in pain, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Tell me, Wanda.” You say firmly, your gaze unwavering, and for a second, you thought she was intimidated by you. She was, in truth, because of her feelings for you.

“Blood.”

You pause. Then, she repeats it again.

“Blood will… replenish my energy. I haven’t eaten, so I’m weak. On a good day, this wound would not even phase me.”

“My blood?”

Wanda nods. Your prolonged silence tells her that there is no way in hell you’d allow her. Her love for you has her hoping for the best outcome—that you’d have mercy on her and help her relieve the pain. But then again, you don’t owe her anything, and this was a lot to ask. The idea of asking felt impossible even though Wanda had already mentioned it, worried that you might refuse or be horrified by the notion.

“Okay.”

She blinks at you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. As long as you don’t turn me into a vampire or anything. I don’t mean it to offend you, but it would... complicate things.”

She nods once again, more eagerly this time. “You don’t have to worry about that. That’s, um… That’s a completely different process.”

“Okay,” you repeat, scooting closer to her, looking down at your dress and your hands as you begin to wonder if you should get a knife. “I-I’m not sure how to… do this.”

“Your neck.” She tells you. Of course.

You don’t ignore the way her red eyes darken and the way her ears perk up in excitement as you move your hair carefully to one side.

“Is it going to hurt?”

Wanda’s gaze softened at your words, “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

She watches you nod and holds her breath as she inches closer to you. Your sweet scent fills her nose with a much stronger fragrance than ever before. She has always loved the way you smelled. It soothed her in ways many other things couldn’t. It was divine, enveloping her senses each time she was near you, and she found herself utterly addicted. She had never been this close before tonight, her breath tickling the side of your neck. She could hear your heart beating fast as she moved closer.

You braced yourself, your heart pounding in anticipation for the expected pain of a vampire’s hungry bite. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt Wanda’s soft, warm lips meet your skin, kissing it so gently in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel her other hand, resting itself on the curve of your waist. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips parted slightly as Wanda continued to press her mouth to your skin, littering your neck with the softest kisses she could possibly give you. You couldn’t help but notice the frailty and gentleness of her touches and her kisses, as if they were delicate and almost fragile.

Wanda was lost in the feeling of your skin. Every kiss left her craving for more, and she found herself losing control of the overwhelming desire she had been suppressing for so long.

You were so distracted by the soft kisses she left on you that you barely noticed the faint, almost imperceptible sensation of Wanda’s fangs piercing your skin. She was so gentle, and you expected much less when she had promised, but this… It felt too good. A moan slips past your lips as Wanda bites into you. Her first taste of your blood was nothing short of divine. So sweet. So warm. The most delicious thing she had ever put her mouth on. The flavor of you was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Wanda’s body. Every second that passed as she drank from you, Wanda began to feel her weakened body begin to mend itself. It was as if your blood had breathed life back into her. Wanda’s senses sharpened, and she felt a profound sense of rejuvenation. The pain in her shoulder began to fade away.

Wanda pulled away from your neck, running her tongue softly against the bite, before turning to look at you. The prettiest thing she ever laid her eyes on.

And Wanda couldn’t resist. She pressed her lips gently against yours and sighed against you. You gasp at the feeling as she places her hands over your waist, then down to your hips, pulling you closer against her. A soft moan falls from your mouth and into hers, and Wanda can’t help but groan. She swiped her tongue on your bottom lip, and naturally, you opened up for her, letting her in to explore the expanse of your mouth, the slight taste of iron on her tongue.

Your lips were parted slightly, and your eyelids felt heavy. But you started to feel weak and lightheaded. You found yourself leaning towards Wanda’s touch, unable to hold yourself up without tipping over, and the next thing you knew, she gently scooped you up and carried you to her bed with her mouth still pressed against yours. Kissing you became the next addicting thing for her. Wanda hovered over you as she laid you down on your back.

She pulled away from the kiss and smiled softly, “You’re so beautiful.”

Her lips traveled down to your neck once more, kissing your skin softly as she felt your arms wrap around her neck. This time, you feel it when she bites you again, unable to stop the moan that escapes your mouth. Wanda smiled as she continued to drink softly from you, her hand reaching up behind your dress to pull at the string that was holding your nightgown together as you arch your back and pressed your front against her. Your dress comes loose with a simple tug, and your cheeks flush, a deep shade of red donning your face as you feel Wanda’s hand cupping and groping your breast over the fabric.

After she pulls away, Wanda kisses your skin again, her lips traveling further south and her face coming up in between your plush breasts. She moans against you, your scent filling her nose in the most addicting way. She could smell you. How aroused you were. How wet you were. And tonight, despite all that you’ve given her, she was feeling a little greedy.

“I want you. I want to make you feel good,” she tells you, her voice all breathy against your skin. “I want to touch you.”

“Please,” you begged her, running your hands in her hair as she began to pull the dress off of you, agonizingly slowly.

When your body comes into full view, Wanda can’t help but stare. She mutters a curse under her breath before letting her fingertips run along your stomach, your nipples, your hips, and your thighs, and Wanda feels like she’s in heaven.

“Stop staring,” you say, pouting shyly as the vampire continues to ogle you.

She only smiles, fangs darting past her lips, “I can’t, angel. You look so pretty like this.”

Wanda leans down to litter your skin with wet kisses and small bruises. She eventually makes her way down to your legs, holding your plush thighs in her hands, and she kisses you, running her tongue over each part that she kisses. You allowed her to spread your knees apart, exposing your glistening sex to her shyly as she leans over, her kisses traveling closer and closer to your wet core.

“Spread your legs wider,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of you.

You do as she says, your hands now gripping your bedsheets slightly. Her fingers make their way in between your folds, softly touching your opening. She lets them move up and down, collecting your slick and spreading it all over, down in between and up to your clit, where she presses slightly harder against your bundle of nerves. She sees you when you bite your lip to stop a moan from falling past your lips. Wanda smiled at the sight. Her love bites are littered all over your skin; the bite on your neck looked more delicious than ever, and your pretty face looked up at her like she was the only one who could ever make you feel like this. Hell, it drives her crazy.

With a new sense of determination, Wanda finally slips her cold finger into you, your tight and warm walls wrapping around her digit. She sighs and leans forward to lay her head against your tummy, watching closely as she pushes her finger in, then pulling out with a squelch.

“You’re so wet for me,” she thinks aloud.

She groans, listening to the delicious sounds of your softest whimpers as she fingers you. Another finger slips inside of you, pulling them in and out of your pussy at a faster pace. Your breathing got heavy. You could feel your stomach getting tighter, but before you could come undone, Wanda pressed her thumb to your clit, working you up to your orgasm. Her fingers are long, and she can’t help but add another one into your tight, dripping sex. Her other hand holds your quivering thigh down as you tremble against her.

“W-Wanda, I’m—”

Your mouth falls open at the feeling of being filled up with her fingers. She’s much faster now, curling her fingers into your walls sloppily as she continues to press your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your high. And then, it comes. Wanda travels up and kisses you, swallowing your moans as you fall apart on her fingers, cumming all over her hand. Your back arched and your legs jerked closed as she pushed your legs back open.

Wanda carefully pulls her fingers out of you, but she doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, making you shiver against her. She rubs it in tight circles as her kisses travel back down to your neck, where she takes another greedy bite into your skin, welcoming the taste of your divine blood into her mouth once again. She groans when you pull her hair slightly, getting drunk off of your essence and the way your hands feel on her head.

When she pulls away, she kisses you again. And when she pulls away for a third time, she makes her way down your body, traveling through the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, and then her destination—back in between your legs. Her nose nuzzles against your clit, your scent filling her senses all over again.

“W-Wait, Wanda this is…”

You had never done this before. And now that Wanda was face to face with your glistening pussy, you got shy. Wanda only looks up at you and smiles, pressing gentle kisses along your inner thigh.

“I want you,” she reminds you, pulling you closer to her face. “I want to be the first one that makes you feel good. I want it to be me. Only me. Inside of you. I want to see how pretty you’ll look when I have my mouth on you.”

She says it so absentmindedly, her eyes not leaving the sight of your pussy as she spreads your lips apart with her thumbs. You couldn’t help but blush at her words, your face getting hotter each time you felt her breath on your pussy. You felt like time was ticking so slowly, with Wanda staring at you for what felt like hours. You grew tense with anticipation, waiting and waiting for her to do something. And when she finally does, your jaw drops, and a silent moan falls from your mouth. Wanda memorizes every little noise you make, the way you arch your back, or the twitch of your thigh.

She was in heaven. Your inner thighs glistened with arousal as she held you down against your bed, noting the way your hands made their way back to her red hair. Your body was a hot, trembling mess right underneath her as she devoured you, licking every space she could reach with her tongue.

When Wanda looks up and sees your mouth wide open in silent screams, arching your back off of the mattress, your soft hand tugging at her locks in a pitiful attempt to slow her down, she knows you’re close. She grew desperate. She keeps licking you, eager to get you closer and closer to your climax. You’re chanting her name as quietly as you can, eyes closed shut as the pleasure keeps building and building inside of you.

“Wanda, I-I’m about to—”

You whimpered, your legs closing around Wanda’s head. She hummed into your pussy and continued to eat you out right as you came into her mouth. She ran her tongue through your folds and over your clit softly, easing you through your orgasm with a satisfied moan. Wanda practically forced herself away from your sex, wishing for nothing but more time with you. She pulled back and sat on her legs to stare at the beauty right in front of her. She rubbed your soft thighs in soothing circles with her hands as she smiled down at you. You trembled slightly, still shaking from the orgasm she had given you.

You reached out to her, your weak arms lifting from the bed, wanting to be in her embrace again. She obliged happily, leaning down to hover over you once again. Wanda kissed you up your neck, to your jaw, and, lastly, to your lips, the taste of you still lingering on her tongue. She moaned against you and smiled into the kiss when she felt your hands slide from her neck to cup her face.

Then, you remembered.

You pushed her away softly, just so you could look at the blood stain on her shirt, where an arrow had struck her earlier tonight.

“I’m okay, now,” you heard her say.

Running a slow and gentle hand over her shoulder, you took a peek, pulling the fabric down a little bit to see her wound, but nothing was there.

“It’s gone,” you said in awe.

Wanda smiled softly at you as you continued to inspect her shoulder. You looked so beautiful. So unafraid of her. And it made her the happiest woman on Earth. She sighs and leans down to pepper a few kisses on your cheek, still surprised by her healing abilities. But you got distracted again, feeling her soft lips against your skin. The light of a candle on your night table danced across the room as she kissed you. Wanda was so gentle. Like she promised.

After a moment, Wanda turned to look out your bedroom window, where she had come in. Her senses immediately took notice of how quiet it was and how dark it was outside. The night embraced the world outside of your bedroom, blackness stretching as far as her eye could see. It was different from the warmth she felt in this sim room—a room with you, her love. It reminded her of the world and now, the secrets you both carried together.

Your voice pulled her out of your thoughts. “You have to go, don’t you?”

Wanda smiled, knowing you already knew the answer to your own question. “Your mother would throw a fit if they found me here.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the thought, smiling sadly as you begin to play with the fabric of her shirt.

“I’ll come see you again, angel. I promise you.”

“Tomorrow?” You ask, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

Wanda turned her attention back to you, and her heart skipped a beat. You were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Unable to stop herself, she leaned down and kissed you once more.

“Tomorrow,” she said firmly.

With one final, lingering kiss on your lips, Wanda whispered three little words. Then, with a graceful and silent movement, she made her way over to the window through which she had entered. Wanda disappeared into the night, leaving the room she made love to you in. You lay in bed, contentment washing over you as a soft smile played on your lips. She was different from the stories you’d hear about vampires. People called them monsters, and even though you only knew Wanda, she was miles and miles away from being one.

You missed her already.

But just as she promised, you saw her again the next day. This time, with more kisses and closer encounters.

— navigation!

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

[fruitcoops]

Please, Please, Please

Cubs beach day in Nice and prompt C4: "Sunscreen" for day 2 of @oknutzy-week-2024! Characters belong to @lumosinlove (except Colette)!

“You,” Logan began, rubbing his hand faster until an aggressive thwap-thwap-thwap punctuated his words. “Are not going to be embarrassing me here, ouais?”

“Okay—Jesus, Lo—yes, alright, I got it.”

Logan pulled back and examined his handiwork. Functional. For now. Down the beach, Leo already looked half-asleep in the sun, and Finn’s longing glances toward him were not even slightly hidden. The breeze ushered a cloud further along; the sudden sunburst made Finn squint.

Logan huffed and squirted another dollop of sunscreen onto his palm, aiming for Finn’s shoulder this time.

“Oh my god, Tremz.”

“You’re going to burn!” he insisted. Finn squirmed away, but he had never been able to shake Logan. Not on the ice, and certainly not on a pebbled beach he’d been traversing since literal infancy. He smoothed out a stray arc of white over Finn’s spine and watched goosebumps flare on his arm. “What would you do without me, eh? Crisp? Like toast?”

“You sound like your grandmother.”

“If I bring back a lobster boyfriend, she’ll think I don’t know how to take care of you!” Logan wiped the excess on Finn’s waist and nodded, satisfied. “Bon.”

Finn quirked a grin at him. “Am I free to go?”

He was so sweet in the sun. So sparkly, copper and amber and caramel catching in his hair where the salt air had starched soft waves. Logan came close and pressed a kiss to each of his summer-warm cheeks. “I love your freckles too much to let them roast.”

“Hmm.” Finn turned his head slightly to the side, pushing his smile into Logan’s cheek. “Just my freckles?”

“And maybe you, a little,” he conceded.

Finn’s hands were pleasantly cool when he ran them along Logan’s sides in a long up-and-down. “A little?”

“Maybe a little more.”

“Enough to bring me home.”

Logan scrunched his nose at him. “I had to bring you, or the hot blond wouldn’t come.”

Finn slapped the sunscreen bottle from his hands with Logan’s favorite wordless sound of affronted disapproval—nearly a squawk, mostly a whine, almost his name. He snatched the bottle just before it hit the coarse sand and took off at a jog, dodging driftwood and clumps of drying seaweed.

Nice was beautiful in the summer. There was a reason he had brought Finn here, years ago. Finn hadn’t known a lick of French and Logan had hardly known what to do with himself watching the autumn reds of Harvard against a backdrop of blue and purple, but it was perfect. Still was. He knew just where to step to make the dock silent as he slowed and made his way to the far end, matching the steady rock of the current as it broke on the sand below.

“Bonjour.”

“ ‘Jour.”

A lazy smile spread over Leo’s lips when Logan knelt to straddle him, knees sinking into the soft towel they had brought down from his grandmother’s house. She utterly adored Leo, with his cherub curls and his good manners and (most delightfully) the ability to speak French. They hadn’t stopped chatting in nearly a week. Logan could listen to it forever.

Leo stretched, torso arching, arms overhead, ankles popping behind Logan—and relaxed, one wildflower-blue eye peering up. “You’ve got a halo,” he murmured. “Mon ange.”

Logan sighed through his nose and let his weight rest heavy across Leo’s waist. His breaths were measured with the comfort of a beach day. The sun had been kissing him golden since the first hot day in June; a week lounging on the coast of France practically made him glow.

“Le mien.” He drew a line down the center of Leo’s chest, where tiny freckles peeked through if you knew where to look. Mine.

Leo’s smile widened until his eyes crinkled. “You sound different here.”

“Mm?”

“C’est, um…” He raised a hand with great effort, tapping his fingers together like a crab claw. “Taffy. Smoother. Fancy.”

“You don’t sound like anybody here,” Logan laughed, relishing the judder of Leo’s belly beneath him. “But, my grandmère loves you anyway.”

“Yeah, she does,” Leo said, prodding him in the chest. “We talk all day long and she doesn’t say I sound funny once. You, on the other hand…”

“Ah! Un petit caneton! Ouais-ouais-ouais, coin-coin-coin-coin,” Logan mimicked.

Leo’s laughter nearly unseated him; he had hardly caught his breath when a shadow cooled Logan’s shoulder, and he leaned blindly into Finn’s thigh. “Are you being bullied into proper skincare, too?” Finn asked.

Leo tilted his head back with a hum. “We’re discussing how Madame Colette likes me better, thinks my French sounds exotique, and calls her only grandson a duck because he speaks like un canadien.”

Finn tapped the bill of Logan’s hat, knocking it off his head. “So you’re Frenching without me and not manhandling Leo into sunscreen? Preferential treatment, much?”

Logan blinked up at him with all the emptyheaded innocence he could muster. “C’est quoi? Je ne parle pas l’anglais, j’regrette.”

Finn’s lips pursed—his ears reddened. “He’s so sorry,” Leo translated before Finn could open his mouth. His hands slid up Logan’s thighs, high enough to edge on indecent but steady enough that Logan really didn’t care. “He just came here to swim and hang out with his hot boyfriend. Doesn’t know a thing about sunscreen, do you, baby?”

A gentle flick to the forehead was a small price to pay for propping his chin on Finn’s knee. “Here in France,” he said, laying on a thick false accent. “We don’t…’ow do you say…burn? I have never ‘eard of zees sun-screen you speak of.”

Finn looked at him for a long moment, then down at Leo. Chocolate-brown eyes fell on Logan again and he batted his lashes. It drove Finn fucking crazy when he did that, less in the sexy way and more in the don’t you give me those eyes you menace way. Logan employed it often for petty crimes like leaving one chip in the bag and putting it back in the pantry, just to watch Finn’s head explode for his own amusement.

Finally, Finn clucked his tongue. “I’m getting on the plane home without you. Good luck finding a redhead in France.”

Logan caught him around the calf with both arms when he began stepping back. Finn pulled, but he stood no chance when a featherlight kiss found the base of his thigh. “You’ll love me in the morning,” Logan countered. “When you aren’t stuck inside with aloe all over.”

“I happen to like staying inside and doing puzzles with Madame Colette.”

“Grandmère will keep trying to teach you French,” he threatened.

Finn narrowed his eyes, though he had long since stopped trying to free his leg. “Maybe this time I’ll learn, and then we can make fun of you together.”

“You won’t get to see the surprise,” Leo singsonged.

Logan frowned down at him, confused. “What surprise?”

Leo took his lower lip between his teeth and looked up at Finn, plucking at the hem of Logan’s swim trunks. “Remember when Lo and I went into town for bread yesterday?”

“…yes,” Finn said slowly.

“He got a really tiny swimsuit.” Logan watched Finn’s eyes widen. “And if you burn, you won’t get to see it.”

“It’s green,” Logan offered helpfully.

The corner of Finn’s jaw worked. “That’s a hard bargain,” he said at last. He beckoned Logan up with one finger and took the sunscreen back from him, setting it down by Leo. There was a curious, analytical look in his eye that made Logan want to know everything and nothing all at once. “I’ll think on it.”

“Can I help you make up your mind?” he teased.

“Yeah, actually,” Finn said, brightening. “You can.”

Logan’s pulse kicked. One week here with them had left him feeling like he’d been soaked in honey, and it only seemed to get better. He had barely been nineteen when he first brought Finn along. This future had not even been in his best daydreams. “Quoi, rouge?”

“You can cool off.”

The sudden shove to his chest caught him by surprise—the clash of the ocean around him silenced Leo’s bark of laughter in a blur of bubbles and blue. He could see Finn’s wobbly outline sketched out by the sun. Where the water drew him down to smooth gray pebbles, they drew him up, and he kicked off the bottom with the world waiting above.

[mrsjellymunson]

🌸🌼 One Fine Day 🌼🌸

Adapted from this ask from @celestialbat for the @steddiemicrofic June 1-year anniversary prompt, ‘one’. WC: 1,111. Rating: G. CW: tooth-rotting fluff, romance, flirting, mentions of food (no actual eating) and Eddie’s difficult childhood (not detailed).

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed that one day could mean so much.

He and Steve haven’t been together long, and haven't really even gone on a proper ‘date’. But Eddie’s decided: today's the day.

He’s not usually one for cuteness and grand romantic gestures - he’d usually take someone to The Hideout, or spend time in his van out by Lover’s Lake. Not because he doesn’t want to, more because he doesn’t know how to, and prefers to keep things simple rather than run the risk of embarrassing himself.

But with Steve, everything’s different.

Before Steve, he reckons he wouldn’t’ve known how to be romantic if his life had depended on it. But now, he’s finding he loves to do things to make Steve laugh, to make him blush, even just to make him smile, and he doesn’t even care if he makes himself look like an idiot while he does it.

So today, he’s packed up as much of a romantic picnic as he can manage. He’s borrowed a basket and cooler from Robin, along with some tips on what to pack, after he admitted he was just going to get Twinkies, chips and Mountain Dew from Melvald’s. She’s even let him raid her fridge for a few things.

He’s shaken out the blankets from the back of his van, and has borrowed a few pillows from the trailer, so they’ll both have something comfortable to sit on. He’s brought camping plates and cutlery, usually reserved for Wayne’s fishing trips, so Steve doesn’t have to pick things out of packets like Eddie usually would, and purchased some of Steve’s favourite name-brand soda (rather than the store equivalent). He’s discovered he and Wayne don’t own napkins, so he’s Origami-ed some kitchen paper into bird-like shapes so they stand up on their own - fancy.

Steve assumes Eddie’s just taking the pair of them to the local park, perhaps picking something up from Benny’s on the way, but Eddie surprises him, swinging the van along one of the exit roads to a ‘secret spot’ outside of town.

It’s down a quiet lane, a pretty meadow filled with tall grass and wildflowers. And it’s beautiful.

Eddie doesn’t mention that he used to come here with his mom. It’s not far from the house they used to live in, and she’d bring him here when things got really bad with Al. Sometimes they’d even camp out under the stars. It was one place where Eddie felt safe.

Maybe he’ll tell Steve about it one day.

He grabs Steve’s hand and unnecessarily helps him down from the cab with a gallant, “This way, sweetheart”, and insists on carrying everything himself, even though Steve offers to help. (And, as Steve suspected he would, he almost trips twice.)

Eddie chooses a patch that’s more grass than flowers, explaining to Steve that, “I don’t want to hurt them”, and lays everything out on the well-loved blanket.

Steve can’t believe he’s gone to all this effort. There’s cold meats and cheeses, small tomatoes, carrot batons, berries, nuts, apple slices and a few grapes. And because Eddie can’t forego the snack food, there’s also pretzels, breadsticks and, yes, chips.

Steve thinks it’s wonderful; thinks Eddie’s wonderful. And the two of them spend an idyllic afternoon snacking and chatting and laughing and playing with each other’s fingers and tracing their fingertips up and down each other’s arms.

Steve asks about Eddie’s tattoos, and Eddie enjoys telling Steve the stories behind them. He makes up outrageous tales about the creatures and how they fought for their places on his human canvas, occasionally lifting his shirt and enjoying the way Steve’s eyes glitter as they roam his torso.

Once most of the food is gone, Steve helps Eddie to pack away the leftovers and encourages him to lie down, insisting he deserves a rest after all he’s done today.

Eddie smiles softly at him, and says he will, but,

“Only if I can choose the best pillow in the state.”

Confused, Steve glances around at the worn cushions brought from the trailer, and Eddie smirks as he drops down onto his elbows and wriggles backwards to place his messy mop into Steve’s lap. He moves his head back and forth a couple of times, settling, humming to himself, mumbling,

“Mmmm, definitely the best pillow in the state. Wait, the country! No, I’m so stupid, of course I mean the whole entire world!”

Steve chuckles down at him and the corners of his honeyed eyes crinkle as Eddie peeps up with those coffee coloured pools Steve adores so much.

Steve enjoys the weight and warmth of Eddie resting against him, and runs his fingers through Eddie’s bangs. They talk about everything and nothing, and Eddie begins to doze in the afternoon sun. He stirs a little as Steve periodically leans to one side, but thinks nothing of it.

He rouses as he feels Steve playing with his hair again, and thinks he might just be in paradise. Surely, there’s no earthly reason why the two of them couldn’t stay like this forever?

But then something unfamiliar tickles his cheek, and he opens one eye to see Steve leaning over him, examining a small yellow flower with a long stem before cocking his head sideways and appraising Eddie, squinting a little.

Placing it carefully into Eddie’s hair between an orange and red bloom, and just above a tiny purple one, Eddie sees the tip of Steve’s tongue emerge from between his teeth as he adjusts it before leaning back and admiring his handiwork.

Eddie brings a hand gently up to his hairline, careful not to dislodge anything, and discovers he has quite an array of blooms adorning his waves.

Steve reaches into his bag and pulls out his Polaroid camera, wanting to capture Eddie’s beautiful visage. Taking a couple of snaps, he places them face down on the blanket to develop as Eddie gleefully makes grabby hands, wanting to take one of his own. He hadn’t realised Steve had brought it, and he’s not missing this opportunity.

Steve won’t know it, but the sun that’s dipping low behind him is giving him a glorious golden halo that Eddie thinks makes him look like an ethereal, heavenly being. If he can capture even a tenth of that in a photo, he thinks he’ll keep it close to his heart forever.

Eddie’s convinced this is definitely the best picnic, and possibly the best afternoon, of his life. He wonders whether Steve feels the same.

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed how much romance he actually had in him, or that one day could mean so much.

Thanks so much for reading!!

My masterlist

Tagging my general list (open): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean

Reblogging divider by @strangergraphics 💚💚

And how could I possibly pass up yet another opportunity to reshare this beautiful and rather gloriously appropriate piece of art by @themultiverseofmars 😉😘 YES I AM OBSESSED, WHAT OF IT HUH? HUH??

[kcrossvine-art]

hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.

I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-

We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.

Yellow onion

Garlic

2 eggs

Ground beef

Rice

A head of cabbage

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Crushed tomato

Tomato sauce

AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa

Very, very filling wow

2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage

A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings

A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto

Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh

Would pair well with a hot sauce dip

could also go well with an artichoke dip

If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?

. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.

Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.

I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes? 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 yellow onion

6 cloves of garlic

2 eggs

2 lbs ground beef

1 1/2 cup cooked rice

1 large head of cabbage

28oz crushed tomato

14oz tomato sauce

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Salt/pepper

Method:

Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.

Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken. 

Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.

Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.

Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.

Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.

Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.

If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.

Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.

Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.

IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.

[tsumtsumrry]

my masterlist 🤍

tiny disclaimer: everything here is stuff that has been posted on this account, to find any of my old stuff that hasn't been posted here you'd have to go to my old account ch3rrybabyhon3y. i would post everything here but i'd feel so annoying flooding the tags lol. if there's anything specific you'd like to see/read again, send me an ask and i'll be more than happy to post it. kisses.

ordered from new to old 🤍

indicators: smut ☆ fluff ❁ angst ♪

one-shots:

Doctor's Orders: in which you have an interesting visit with your gynecologist when you come to him with an inconvenient problem.

or

“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “…basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.

You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable. 

“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response. 

Second Visit (part two)

Film Bro: in which sleepy best friend Harry gets a little too worked up while you guys cuddle. ☆☆❁

or

The poor baby’s worked himself up somehow and doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, doesn’t realize how needy he is. His face wears a tortured expression, his eyebrows arched and pushed tightly together. The desperate soft sounds continue to leave his slightly parted lips and all you can think about in this moment is how much you want to kiss his lips, soft and bitten. 

Honestly, you’re at a loss of what to do in this situation. Do you wake him? Do you let him keep going until he ruins his pants? Do you just will yourself to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? You know that last one’s definitely not going to work considering how ridiculously turned on you are. With every thrust against your ass, an onslaught of butterflies assault your stomach and you feel the pool in your underwear only getting wetter. 

You don’t want to stop him. 

Favorite Holiday: in which you and Harry are friends with benefits ☆❁ ♪

or

"He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history."

Sex Therapist: in which Harry helps you out a bit, and he's not actually a sex therapist. (but he might as well be)☆❁

or

"“Maybe you need someone familiar.”

You can tell he almost regretted it when he said it, but there was also something of what seemed like determination in his eyes. You can only imagine the mental battle he’s having right now.

“Someone…familiar?” You say, your tone is nothing less than breathless.

“Mhm…someone you know, someone you trust, someone that can take care of you.” You know Harry’s noticed your change in breathing, the way you tried to subtly press your thighs together, you know he’s noticed and that’s why his voice has lowered to a calculated sultry tone that you know he only reserves for times like this. He’s downright seducing you and you don’t seem to have a problem with it, “any ideas?”

Good Boy: in which harry is a brat. ☆❁

or

"“So sit down, and listen to me like a good boy.” she says, watching as Harry rolls his eyes. She scoffs because she knows it’s all an act, but also because she knows he’ll regret this later, when he’s on his second denial and begging her to just ‘please, baby let me come’. She knows he’ll regret it.

“No? This is how we’re doing it tonight? Alright then.” She loves it when Harry is soft and submissive and just does whatever she wants off the bat, but she can’t deny the fun in making him submit. She knows he loves it too.

Harry, is on cloud nine, he loves this, he lives for it. Being forced to submit, making her hurt him. Gives him a high like no other, really gets him going. Sometimes he regrets being smart with her when he’s on third orgasm, or his third denied orgasm, but still, he loves it."

Morning After: in which you wake up next to harry after your first night together. ☆❁

or

"They had sex for the first time. 

In no way were they virgins, but it was just as special as anyone’s first time. She had been holding off on having sex with anyone since her last relationship, scared to give all she had to someone only for them to hurt her and walk away like her ex did. She never wanted to feel that pain again. 

She was dead-set on becoming a nun before Harry found her and swept her off her feet. He loved and cared for her, showing her he would never hurt her like her ex did. It took some time, but she finally learned to trust Harry. And as soon as her walls broke down, she loved and trusted him fully. She gave her all to him. 

Harry wasn’t expecting from her, he just wanted to love her. So when the opportunity came to love on her, there’s no way he could’ve passed that up."

Piper: in which sub-harry let's go. ☆❁

or

"Piper shakes her head at his pout and opens her mouth to speak, “I have an idea.“

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his pout lessens a little bit, “wha’ is it?” He’s talking slower and thicker due to how overcome with lust he is and Piper fight the urge to shift her thighs at the sound of it.

“Well…” she pauses to give him a slow kiss, “you’ve been working so hard lately, been so good. Was thinking I could dedicate a night to just you. Hmm? Make you cum so hard you see stars?”

Harry’s mouth parts slightly at her words and he tries to prevent his eyes from rolling back into his head at the butterflies that just swarmed through every part of his body."

Alexa: in which you're an assistant for one direction ❁♪

or

"“Do you want a coffee or something? I feel weird just standing here without getting you something…” Alexa mumbles and Harry’s face falls. Her words served a (very) painful reminder that she just worked for him. She was forced to be around him. Doesn’t mean she liked him. After all she only came up to him because Niall told her he needed help with something. Harry feels pathetic.

“No…no thank you.” he murmurs and Alexa nods quickly and turns on her heel to walk away.

Harry doesn’t understand why he can’t just talk to her. Every other “employee” feels like a friend (or even family) to him. Why can’t he cross that line with the one person he wants to?"

She: in which we dream with harry ❁☆♪

or

"The drive of his life, where his passion is derived from. He wouldn’t be where he is without her.

Some people may say it’s foolish to be so codependent on a dream, but he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. As long as he keeps seeing her when he closes his eyes, he’s at peace.

He imagines the color of her skin, the smoothness of her body, the volume of her hair, the sound of her voice. Every day he imagines it all. Every day he dreams about it."

Laura: in which you've had enough. ♪♪

or

"She hates herself for feeling weak, for showing him any emotion. She’s stuck between wanting him to know that he’s hurting her and not wanting to give him the power to know that he has any affect on her at all.

“You keep acting like you didn’t know how it was going to b-” Harry starts, but Laura interjects with an angry incredulous tone, feeling like if this were a cartoon you would surely see the steam coming out from her ears.

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t how it was when it first started, even when you were doing the first album, hell, even when you were on fucking tour! This is an us thing, this isn’t just a ‘studio’ thing and you know it!”

blurbs/asks:

sub ceo harry ❁☆

friends to lovers h ❁❁

sex with h headcannons ☆❁

friends to lovers angst ♪❁

sub bestfriendrry finding your vibe ☆❁

request that's basically just porn (lol) ☆☆

subby co-worker harry ☆☆

enjoy to all your heart's content. love you loads and loads. kisses. 🤍

[earthtoharlow]

Teach Me: XOXO

series masterlist

“What do you mean you don’t have a reservation under my name?” Jack asked sternly into the phone. Valentine’s Day was coming up which meant that this was going to be Ariel and his first time celebrating the holiday together. Wanting to make it special he made reservations for a fanciest restaurant in town, booking out the private room so they could have some privacy.

Jack listened as the guy stuttered nervously over the phone. “I’ve checked everywhere, sir. I apologize.” Frustration etched across his face and he ran a hand through his curls roughly. “Fine. So can I just book the private room for 7pm Wednesday please?”

The host cleared their throat nervously, “Well, Mr. Harlow the room is actually booked by another party. I’m so terribly sorry.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack said, failing to keep his emotions in check.

“Again. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience—“ Not wanting to hear another word from him, Jack hung up the phone and threw it on the couch of the recording studio. Jack couldn’t shake the disappointment. Valentine’s Day was Ariel’s favorite holiday, all he wanted to do was make it special and now he felt like the day was ruined before it even got here.

Jack groaned loudly and placed his head in his hands, trying to figure out what he was going to do for Ariel’s favorite holiday now. Urban, who walked in during the tail end of the call, offered a suggestion. “Dude, why not just have a casual dinner at home? You two are more about the cozy and comfortable than the fancy and formal. Besides, you don’t even like being around people anymore. This would be perfect.”

So that’s what Jack did, as Valentine’s Day rolled around, he dropped Jayla off to spend the night with his parents, which she wasn’t very happy about. Jayla clung to his hand, getting emotional as Jack tried to leave.

“Daddy, can’t I just stay with you and Miss Ariel? I’ll be good, I promise!” Jayla asked, with a small sense of hope in her eyes.

Jack crouched down to her height, gently wiping the tears that were threatening to fall. “Sweetheart, Ariel and I need a little time for just the two of us, but we’ll make it up to you. How about a special day together tomorrow?”

Jayla nodded reluctantly “Okay, but it has to be super special. Candy for breakfast!” Jack could only smile, “Deal. We’ll make tomorrow just as amazing, I promise.” With a reassuring hug, he left Jayla in the care of his parents before rushing back home to get everything set up for tonight.

When he got home he immediately started working on dinner, determined to make it an unforgettable evening despite the restaurant hiccup. As the minutes ticked by, Jack found himself nervously pacing the living room floor awaiting for Ariel’s arrival. While he was nervous he was proud of himself for preparing a home cooked meal that looked edible, adorned with Valentine decorations and flickering candles.

Jack’s heart raced in his chest with each creak in the floorboards. Finally the doorbell rung, his nerves immediately turned to excitement as he welcomed Ariel inside.

“Wow, Jack, this looks amazing!” Ariel exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she took in the cozy atmosphere and the spread laid out before her. Relief washed over Jack as he watched her appreciate the effort he had put in.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, a hint of nervousness still lingering in his voice. “I love it.” With a warm smile, Ariel leaned in to give him a tender kiss, expressing her thanks.

Jack reciprocated the affection, but as they pulled away, a playful grin spread across Ariel's face. “Oops, looks like I left a little something behind,” she chuckled, noticing a faint lipstick mark on Jack’s lips.

Jack’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment before he joined in her laughter. “Well, I guess I’ll wear it as a badge of honor,” he joked, gently wiping away the lipstick.

As they settled onto the coach after having dinner enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Everything tonight was perfect!” Ariel sighed happily snuggling closer to Jack. “This is exactly what I wanted – a quiet evening with you.” Jack smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, happy that the night was going well.

“Remember last Valentine’s Day when we weren’t officially a couple?” Ariel grinned, her eyes sparkling with the memory.

Jack chuckled, “How could I forget? I was nervously trying to figure out how to express my feelings without sounding like a creep for liking my daughter's teacher.” They both laughed, recalling the playful banter and subtle hints.

Now, a year later, those memories were tinged with a profound warmth. “Who would’ve thought we’d be here now?” Jack mused, his gaze filled with affection. Ariel leaned in, a gentle smile on her face, “I had a good feeling about it. Look at us, celebrating Valentine’s Day as a couple, and I couldn’t be happier.”

They had agreed earlier that month not to exchange any gifts but they both couldn’t help themselves. With a sheepish smile, Jack reached inside the side table drawer and pulled out a cheesy card adored with hearts. “You’re the missing piece to my puzzle,” it read, with her favorite lollipop attached to it.

“I know we said no gifts, but I couldn’t resist. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Ariel laughed, equally guilty, “Funny, I got you something too.” She presented him a card that read “Our love is like these candies – sweet, irresistible, and a little nutty,” featuring Jack’s favorite chocolates.

They both couldn’t help but laugh at realizing the joy in breaking their own pact. “I guess we both failed at keeping it gift-free,” Jack teased, and Ariel grinned. “Well I’m not complaining one bit!” Ariel said as she ripped open her candy.

As the night continued Ariel couldn’t help but wish Jayla was there with them to celebrate. They had grown closer this past year and it felt weird not having Jayla with them.

She gently broached the subject with Jack, “Do you think we could pick up Jayla and spend the rest of the night as a family?”

Jack’s eyes softened as he realized the significance of the request. “Absolutely,” he replied, touched by her thoughtfulness. They made their way to his parents place, and the joy on the little girl’s face when she saw Ariel spoke volumes. The trio embraced the rest of the night with warmth, creating cherished memories that extended beyond the romantic, making it a truly special Valentine’s Day.

***

AN: surpriseeeee 💋

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