#*blows kisses from the far corner*

[bubacorn]

hey! hi! hello! i'm Buba [bʊbɑː]

i'm in my early 20s and use they/she pronouns

you can find me on ao3 here. i write Sleep Token fics about the stage characters

worshitposting masterpost because my brain goes brrr sometimes and for a fleeting moment i think i'm funny

feel free to come yell at me (softly) if you want, about fics, headcanons or just stuff, either in asks or dms. or just send me pictures of your cat, whichever is fine 💜

tags:

#buba arts - i do art sometimes, but it's a rare sight

#buba rambles - i ramble sometimes

#buba writes - fics & hcs

#buba answers - lovely, lovely asks from lovely, lovely people

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[grandisknight]

afternoon treatment | zayne

summary: Zayne follows the "doctor's orders" in order to feel better.

tags: suggestive, established relationship, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), soft zayne, medical kink, 'doctor' kink, kissing, medical procedures (auscultation), medical inaccuracies (in a sense), chest mention, straddling

wc: 2.2k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: relax time affinity 80 with zayne and that one liner he has. that's it, that's the tweet.

Afternoons at Akso Hospital were always the busiest, from routine check-ups to meetings alike. Staff and accompanying patients hustled through the halls and hushed rooms—there was always something happening, and the cardiac surgery department was no different.

Yet, today seemed to offer Zayne some grace and time to reside in the chilled comforts of his workspace. The morning surgery went well, and his next procedure wouldn’t be for another hour or two. 

Therefore, he’s rewarded himself with a simple diagnosis report. The file was lighter in subject, easier to digest in comparison to what was usually on his plate. In his mind, this was a well-fitted solution to kill some time before returning to sterile scrubs and tense operating rooms.

Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looks over their exterior when a soft series of familiar knocks reach his door.

“It’s open,” he calls out, rectangular reflection returning to the onscreen data. Without missing a beat and sparing another glance, he adds on, “Weren’t you supposed to visit a No-Hunt Zone today?”

“Finished my observations earlier than expected,” you chirped, pushing the door to a close and striding towards his busy desk. 

Recent reports of Metaflux fluctuations had consumed your bright morning with Herte Knaves running amok. Nothing out of the ordinary from your usual line of work, easily dealt with in a couple of bulleted blows. Their dispersing remains flecked the air in a quiet flurry that reminded you of snowflakes—naturally, your feet led you to the pristine floors of Akso soon thereafter.

Curiously, you sidestep to shadow his focused form, gaze altering between the wall of text and precise clicks of his keys. “Thought you were on break, but it seems like you’re working,” you mumble, in awe of his steady pace. “As always, Dr. Zayne.”

He speaks with an obvious, “Well, I am at work. The call is coming from inside the house.”

“Zayne,” you punctuate. His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and you cross your arms in turn. “You know what I mean.”

A faint chuckle passes under his breath. “You’re accusing me as if I’m in the wrong.”

He was not, actually—far from it. That goes without saying when you were in the middle of his office, imposing during said work time. But you’ve been in his graces for nearly a year now, and know well enough that it was only around this time in the afternoons would he be able to catch a breather.

You shake your head, putting on your best voice before coming to your defense. “No, but the doctor’s orders require you to take a break.”

This catches his attention, fingers slowing their clicks and chair swiveling to face you head on. Slight confusion quirks his brow, mirroring your folded arms in observation. “And pray tell, who would that be? Last time I checked, only one of us is a certified surgeon in this room.”

Your eyes instinctively dart to his stationed badge, credentials on full display against his chest pocket. He had you beat there, at the very least.

“You may hold a degree for medical hearts,” you start, taking a step into the space of his parted knees and tapping your chest. 

“But I hold the degree to your heart.” Your finger redirects to the meeting point of his neckline, resting above the aforementioned muscle.

“Is that so?” The corners of his lips lift, amused by your display and newfound authority. “I was unaware of such a professional. Surely, I would’ve remembered seeing someone as dedicated as you during my studies.” 

He takes the chance to brush away a strand of hair hugging your cheek, neatly tucking it behind your ear. Gentle appreciation fills his comment of, “Would’ve made them much more enjoyable, too.”

“That’s besides the point.” You wave him off, though it doesn’t fan away the heat blushing your ears, sensing his underlying meaning. 

Returning to your self-presumed role, you nod. “As your dedicated and completely legitimate doctor, I believe you’re showing concerning symptoms.”

Zayne hums, withdrawing his hand. “I’m afraid your assessment is lost on me. What exactly are these symptoms?”

“Well, my patient seems to love working overtime. This can cause unnecessary stress to the body and mind, for one.” 

You lift one knee to bracket his, the other following in suit—Zayne adapts rather quickly, leaning back to give you space as you carefully straddle his waist. His arms naturally circle around you, hands hovering your tailbone to keep you steady.

Neatly settled on top, you continue with your mild lecture of reported observations. “Even though he should be using the precious time in-between work to give himself a well-deserved break, he does the exact opposite.” 

“He is on a break,” Zayne says to his defense. “It’s barely considered heavy work.”

“Doing any kind of work during down-time does not count, mister,” you chide.

You gently tussle his bangs, pushing them to the side and revealing his forehead. Smoothing over the skin above his brow, your eyes searched his expression before noting a shadow of fatigue beneath his lashes. He really was working himself to the bone, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

“A dire symptom of a workaholic is when his skin is faring worse than usual,” you exaggerate. “Your eye bags are so prominent they could be checked in at the airport.”

“It’s not that bad,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling at your touch. They flutter to a close when your hand slides to cup his face, thumb brushing the high of his cheekbone in gentle care. “The lighting just makes it seem worse for wear. I’m fine.”

“I beg to differ.” You slowly trail downwards, caressing the side of his neck with a pursed lip. 

His pulse point thrummed nicely against your fingers, and a curious press elicited a low sigh from him. Unexpected, though the sound was music to your ears and had butterflies rampant in your stomach. A part of you wanted to hear more of the gravelly timbre that rarely made an appearance—you knew what needed to be done.

Picking up where you left off, more of your self-declared medical ramblings followed. “See here? Another symptom, such a fast pace surely isn’t for the faint of heart. Your apical pulse,” to which your fingertips lightly drag themselves towards, “can’t lie to me.”

Zayne is breathless by the time he formulates a response in sincerity. “How can we go about a treatment plan, then? It seems pretty serious.”

A slowed, purposeful pronunciation follows soon thereafter. “Doc-tor.”

Your heart skipped not one, but two beats—dangerous, surely, but it fell short in the face of Zayne’s steadfast compliance. He peers up at you, factually smitten and framed softly by the office lights blending the contours of his face. You raise your other hand to hold his fine face between them. Admiring, in awe of all that he was.

“There’s only one known treatment option, I’ll have you know.” Unable to hide your smile, you quickly add, “Might require mouth to mouth if things go south.”

Zayne’s pools of hazel flick to your upturned lips, before meeting your mischievous stare with a hint of his own.

“Is this truly scientifically proven, or did you come all this way just to kiss me?”

“Yes,” was all you offered to his question, before placing an airy kiss to his cupid’s bow. 

A second found its way to the bridge of his nose, laid over the slight ridge you adore before another rested between his raised brows. His eyes flutter to a close when your lips gently pressed to his temple, stilling at the contact. Slowly, you leave a trail of love across his cheeks, pausing once you meet the corner of his mouth.

Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, smiling at the way he parts them so readily for you. His chin tilts in the direction of your touch, mouthing the chase. A flush of pink sinked into his skin, a perfect peach for you to sink your teeth into.

“Tell me,” you say softly. Your fingers curl underneath his chin, observing the lidded gaze that follows. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

A tender exhale pushes past those very lips. “Right here,” he quietly admits. Closing the distance until you were only a breath away, his eyes focused on the plush of your mouth. “Please, Doctor.”

The union was gentle and warm, a kiss so kind that the same sentiment blossomed in your chest. Traces of a sweetened coffee picked from the hospital’s cafeteria and warm amber from his collar consumed your senses.

Zayne held you closer, chest to his and enveloping in a tender embrace. His hands traced the curve of your back, following your spine to gently cradle your head. Just to keep you this close, he was restless—realizing that he needed this more than he thought. The smile that cracks through another kiss is a testament to it, sealed with a deep breath of contentment.

It was perfect, a moment in time where your thundering heartbeats were equally matched. The world was nothing but a witness to the seconds spent in meaningful lip-locking.

“Mmph,” you groan unceremoniously. 

Something firm brushed against your brow, pulling you out of the sweet trance. The culprit looked back at you in its silver rimmed and glass glory, sliding down the bridge of Zayne’s nose.

“Hm?” He leans back, noticing your discomfort. “What’s the matter?” 

You contemplate on telling him, partially distracted by the puff of his lower lip. It has a sheen of your affection, and you were sure you looked no different in his eyes.

“Your glasses are falling,” you admit. You reach for the frames, intending on pushing them back to the high of his nose.

Zayne pauses your wrist then, a warm mirth in his gaze. “These are in the way, are they not?” He guides your hand, allowing the glasses to depart from his face and settling it on his desk. 

With or without the specs, he truly was handsome—the kind of beauty modeled in Greek busts, from the contours of his cheeks to the sharp angle of his brow bone. You’d have to thank his parents the next time you see them.

He sneaks in a kiss, no longer obscured by the barrier and face perfectly pressed to yours. “My Doctor seems to be distracted,” he comments, taking in your wandering gaze. A cool hand graces the crowd of your head, patting softly. “What are you planning this time?”

His touches brought you out of your daydreaming, and you nod. Hands settling on the curves of his shoulders, you slide them upwards with a murmur of, “I should check your apical pulse again.”

Your eyes wander to the space behind him, a stethoscope only a grab away. With some effort, you spare a hand to reach for it, rising from the chair to a degree. 

Zayne noticeably stiffens at his newfound view—your chest in his face wasn’t something on his agenda for today. The breath in his throat hitches, recognizing your fragrance. Comforting and pleasant, a piece of home warmly enhanced by your skin.

By the time you successfully have the medical device in hand, you nearly drop it at the feeling of his nose digging into your chest. 

“Zayne? You’re—mmh?!” His hands find their way to your midsection, holding you still as he inhales deeply. You only hear him hum between muffled fabric, and your mind dizzies at the heatwave the mere sound sends to your core.

He pulls back with a soft sigh, the peach of his skin notably deepened to a soft rouge. Zayne guides you back to sit proper in his lap, reaching for the stethoscope in your surprised hand. Carefully, he places the ear tips into place for you and brushes your hair back in the process. Nonchalant, as if he didn’t spend the last waking moments happily buried in your chest.

“If you’re checking my pulse for me, I hope you’ve read the hospital’s code of conduct.” He drops his hands then, patiently awaiting your auscultation. In the reflection of his coy stare, you find that your own blush is faring far, far worse than his.

“Right, right. I did, trust me,” you say in confidence.

You, in fact, did no such thing. But memory of past appointments guides your hand over his heart, chest piece sliding around to count the beats. Not a single count was missed, all perfectly in place and accounted for.

Though, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming. It didn’t help that his eyes were entirely focused on you, pointed with affection and observation alike.

“Well?” Zayne hums. “How does it sound?”

“You have a heart, and it’s beating alright.” Your conclusion was far from exemplary, but at least it was the truth.

“That’s a relief,” he laughs quietly. He gently removes the stethoscope, setting it aside. “Realistically, this isn’t how an auscultation works.”

“My methods are just special, that’s all.” You shrug, lightly patting the space that protects the aforementioned organ. “But you seem to be feeling better, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Mhm.” Zayne presses a kiss to your nose, and offers his gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what I would do without your care.”

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.1

christmas special

next part

summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : suggestive comments! dual pov! swearing! hope you like this!! comment to be on tag list <3

words : 2638

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Persistent knocking at the door forces me to pull myself off my nicely made bed and slump down the stairs. Max, Piertra and I are staying in a cabin for Christmas because our parents have decided to go to the beach.

It’s rustic and smells like cinnamon everywhere, the roof dusted with the snowfall from the night before. I hurry down the stairs in my airplane outfit because I haven’t even had time to unpack.

As soon as I rest my hand on the cold door knob and open it to see who’s waiting, I regret it. “Merry Christmas!” A smiling Lando Norris stares back at me, bags in hand and snow on his curls.

I slam the door in his face. I should have looked through the peephole, maybe he would have given up. “Max!” I yell, hearing the pattering of his feet on the hard wood and his head peaking out his door. “There’s a thing at the door for you.”

His face breaks into a grin as he runs down. He all but pushes me out of the way to get to his best friend, opening the door and hugging him.

I roll my eyes and start to walk away but Lando’s voice rings out behind me, “Welcoming as always, sunshine.” That fucking nickname makes me turn, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting my eyes.

“Max, I thought you said we ordered pizza, not your childhood best friend.” Max gives me a look which makes me cross my arms. He never understood my hatred for Lando, probably because he was the one pissing me off with him.

Yet I think he’s grateful that I stay as far away as possible. Still, Karma is real and Max’s nightmare is having his baby sister even close to his reckless friend, that’s why Lando takes every opportunity to flirt with me.

“Play nice, Y/n. It’s Christmas, you know, kindness and joy?” I narrow my eyes at Lando who steps inside and shakes off the snow on Max, “We’re spending this as a group! A group that loves each other!” My brother pushes him away, shutting the door to block the cold air.

Lando blows me a kiss as P comes around the corner, Max leaving Lando for his girlfriend, “Lando, you’re here!” the traitor says as Max hugs her from behind, “Come in! I’m making hot chocolate!”

⋆༺

Lando Norris and I have never been best friends. He saw me purely as his best friend's little sister and someone to annoy. I saw him as my brother's annoying friend who was constantly in my way.

Or I guess I should say ‘see’ instead of ‘saw’ because our childhood banter has continued through to adulthood. I can’t stand him, he’s cocky and annoying. I don’t know why he flirts with me, maybe it’s partly to annoy me and partly to get to my brother who yells at him anytime he so much as calls me pretty.

I like to think I'm more mature than my thirteen year old self who would scream at Lando for tying my shoes together, but as Lando makes an absurd amount of noise in the room adjacent to mine, I can’t help but slam my hand on our connecting doors.

We arrived at night so I was in bed quickly after dinner. I wish I was warm and cozy in my bed, but Lando blinks at me innocently after opening the door.

My eyes betray me when they leave his face and look at what he’s wearing. Or what he’s not wearing… Shirtless and in sweats, Lando looks all too smug.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Can you stop checking me out? I’m on facetime.” He holds up his phone to show a dark screen, I can make out the sleepy face of Carlos Sainz. I push his phone back down, a bit embarrassed in my quadrant hoodie.

“Just keep it down, Norris. Can’t you and your boyfriend catch up later, like in daylight?”

That devious smirk makes its way back on his face, “Jealous, Sunshine?” That fucking nickname makes me roll my eyes, “I heard about the breakup… I feel horrible for him. Seemed like a nice guy.”

I grind my teeth together at the mention of my ex. How does he even know!? That was months ago. “Like you’re one to talk, losing the championship couldn’t have been good for your dick.”

His brow quirks at me playing back, “How often do you think about my dick, Sunshine?”

I put on my best sweet smile, my hand on the door, “When i’m in bed…” he leans closer, nodding, “Alone…” his brow raises and It makes my smile grow, “Getting sick at the idea and the alcohol in my system.”

His face drops as he stands straighter, “Why do you insist on lying to yourself? It’s not a good habit.”

“Why do you insist on being an asshole? Go to sleep.” I shut the door, giving him no choice but to back up quickly into his room.

“Sweet dreams, sunny!” He calls as I sigh and get back into bed, hoping for a good night's sleep and my headache to go away.

⋆༺

lando

Max makes me get up early so we can get breakfast before all the menus switch. I’m pushed out the door with Y/n by my side, her hair curled and looking far too put together for this early.

She has on jeans, a sweater, and a light blue puffer jacket over. Although she looks put together, I realize she’s just as tired as I am when I accidentally nudge her while walking to the car.

She pushes me back roughly as if it was my intent to touch her. Max and P are holding hands and walking ahead of us, so he doesn’t see his sister harassing me.

“Hey!” I’m lucky I didn’t slip because of my hands firmly in my jacket’s pockets. I feel like a marshmallow, I'm fully covered from a beanie on my head to seven layers and boots on my feet.

I go to push her back but the look she gives me reminds me that I know better. “What’s got you in such a good mood today, sunshine?”

She eyes me when I say the nickname I started calling her at fifteen. “I didn’t sleep.”

“I slept extremely well. Nice dreams too.” She rolls her eyes and opens the car door, the two of us sitting in the back while Max drives.

“I’m so happy for you.” She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She leans her head against the window, her breath showing on the glass.

“Wanna know what I dreamt about?” I smirk, clicking my seatbelt as she doesn’t move. “I’ll give you a hint.”

She looks at me, her cheek squished against the window that I know is freezing. “Would you like my foot up your ass?”

I ignore her, “You were there.” Max and P turn on the radio as we leave the driveway, speaking quickly about something and definitely not paying attention to us. “It was really hot… complete opposite of the snow. We had to strip.”

I’m leaning in closer, just in case. I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by her brother today. “Sounds like it was a dream for a reason.” Y/n blinks, pulling my seatbelt back so it locks and I have no choice but to sit back in my seat.

God she’s hot.

⋆༺

We spend most of the day looking around the town, peeking into shops and going to the grocery store. We end up at a christmas tree farm about thirty minutes away from our house.

“I feel like I'm in a hallmark movie.” I think that should be a bad thing but they are my guilty pleasure. P and I wander down each row of trees, hot chocolate in hand and the boys arguing behind us.

“I’m so glad we’re here!” the blonde squeals next to me, “I know you don’t love Lando but he’s still fun. Plus no one should be alone on christmas!”

I raise a brow, “Why would he be alone?” I never really wondered why Lando was with us, but now I realize that it probably wasn’t just to fuck up my own holiday.

She shrugs and keeps looking for trees, talking about our plans to ski and snowboard tomorrow and yelling at Max to remember to find gingerbread houses.

“This one is perfect!” Lando runs up to the biggest tree in the lot, he looks extra small next to it.

“There’s no way we’re getting that in the house.” I say, crossing my arms and watching Lando shake his head vigorously.

One thing about Lando is that once he knows he wants something, he sets his mind to it in an almost urgent fashion.

“Have a little Christmas spirit, Sunshine.” he mumbles as he looks around the tree, then to a worker, “We’ll take it!”

“I’m not helping you two get that in the house.” P shakes her head as they start to drag the huge thing to the car.

As soon as they realize it won’t fit in our car, Lando pays a random man who has a truck to bring it to us. We’re back home soon after, Max going on about how he hopes our tree isn’t being stolen.

Our tree is thankfully not stolen and is outside our house when we get there. The man that helped us refuses the money and asks for a picture with Lando instead.

I’m very aware of Lando’s fame, but at moments like this, it’s still shocking. To me, he’s still the little shit who would beat me in karting and shove it in my face.

P and I sit on the couch eating cookies and making sure my phone is silenced while Lando and Max struggle with the tree for almost an hour. By the time it’s up, it’s dark and I'm hungry.

“I can’t reach!” I groan, standing on the side of the couch and trying to put ornaments higher up on the tree.

We’re a bit screwed considering the lot of us are quite short. I give up and just throw it up there, luckily it catches on a bit of green and stays there.

“Here.” Lando says to me, handing the star that we bought today at a local shop. “Try not to break it?”

I mimic him and stand on my tippy toes, trying to reach but being nowhere close. “Christ, Someone help her out.” Max cringes as he watches from his comfortable position on the couch.

I turn to him, “You could help, you know!”

P laughs, sucking on a candy cane and sorting through the decorations on the floor. I turn back to the tree and am taken severely off guard when Lando’s hands appear on my legs.

“Norris!” I scream as his head goes between my legs so I'm sitting on his shoulders. It’s an absolute ambush by a man in a too tight white shirt. “What are you doing!?” I grab onto his hair as he groans from me pulling it.

“It’s called a solution, Sunshine.” He stands up on the edge, wobbling a bit. I pull tighter but he retaliates by gripping my leg.

I roll my eyes and don’t dare look at P who I know has her phone out. Lando lifts me like it’s nothing, looking up at the top of the tree and seeing it far closer than it was.

I pop the star onto it and expect Lando to put me down but he just hops off the couch, “Norris, I swear-”

Max has a smile so big that my heart immediately starts beating faster. I can’t see Lando’s face but I know he’s smirking. “Don’t swear, it’s bad manners.”

“Right, cause you’re a great example of good manners.” I tug on his hair again and make him look up at me, he stops on the way to the front door. “Put me down.”

“Ask nicely.” Even from upside down he's hot. I let go of his hair but don’t accept defeat.

“Max, help!” I kick my feet against Lando as he opens the door, “Pietra!?”

I can’t see anything but the front yard, covered in snow. I’m freezing as soon as he steps out and I star fighting harder when I realize why Max is laughing so hard.

That’s when I start screaming. Our neighbors would probably think someone’s being murdered but this house is in the middle of nowhere!

“Norris! I’ll kill you!” I’m trying to get off but he’s just too damn strong, “Lando!” And then I go face first into four feet of soft snow.

I’m practically wrestling him by the time I get up, “I slipped! I slipped!” He yells as I shove his face into the snow. “Uncle!”

I’m laughing now, his face white and hair covered in snow, “Stop trying to murder my friend!” Max watches from the door, popping chips into his mouth as he lets us go at it.

I throw a snowball at my brother.

Lando takes my distracted position and throws a handful of snow in my mouth. I start coughing and slapping every part of him that I can. “Come back inside! You both are gonna get hypothermia.” P says from the door, wrapped in a blanket.

Lando stands up first, holding a hand out to me, a smirk on his face. I don’t take his hand, standing up on my own and pushing past him to walk inside.

Max messes with my hair as Lando shakes the snow from his curls on my brother like a dog. “Movie time!” P claps her hands together, “The grinch or elf?”

I groan, brushing my hands through my hair as Lando leans against the kitchen table, his arms flexing under the pressure and thoroughly distracting me.

“I hate elf.”

Lando’s jaw drops along with Max’s, “How can you hate elf!?” Max scoffs, “You are not my sister.”

“How can anybody hate elf!?” Lando shakes his head, “P, we’re watching elf.”

P laughs, “I’m a bit sick of the grinch, Y/n. Sorry.” Max puts his arm around P, shrugging and walking into the movie room.

Lando pushes off the table, swiping a blanket resting on a chair and handing it to me, “You look a bit pale, maybe you should warm up.”

I take the blanket, narrowing my eyes, “Is there going to be a sex joke after that?”

He puts his hand onto his chest, looking appalled, “I didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.”

I know he’s messing with me but I can’t help but play into it. “You don’t know a lot of things about me.”

“I’d like to know more. More that involves one of our rooms’ temperature going up and not because of the heater.” Cocky bastard.

I hum and start walking away, “Ah, there’s the sex joke.”

Lando follows behind me. I wish his mouth would stay shut but I know I'm not that lucky. “I know you’d like it.”

“You don’t know anything.”

He stops me before we get to the door where P and Max are behind. “Let me prove you wrong, then we’ll talk.” I knows he messing with me. I hate him for it.

He’s got that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes are soft, teasing, and darker in this light. His hands are in his pockets and that damn shirt is still tight against his biceps. Just because I hate him, doesn’t mean I can’t find him attractive.

I let out a breath, eyeing him one last time before pushing the door open, “Stick to me in your dreams, Lan.”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Word Count: 4k

Part 2: READ HERE

The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 

Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.

All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  

Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 

“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”

As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”

To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”

Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”

Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  

Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 

The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 

You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 

And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.

“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 

You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.

“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”

He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”

You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.

With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 

You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  

The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 

The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”

He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 

Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”

“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.

Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.

The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.

Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  

It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”

Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.

Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 

How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?

The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.

You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 

That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 

The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 

And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.

You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.

The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 

Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 

Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 

Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 

Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.

“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”

It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 

By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 

You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.

“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.

Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 

Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.

Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  

You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 

“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”

You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 

“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.

You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 

“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”

The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.

Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 

You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 

Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.

The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 

Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 

This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.

And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.

[alexiroflife]

"please"

MDNI, very suggestive content

Synopsis: you and choso keep warm as a snowstorm swarms the city

to sum it up: you have sex together for the first time and both love the word 'please'

WC: 7,077

Warning(s): SMUT, all of it smut

There had always been something about snowstorms, the way they ushered people indoors and howled against the windows angrily, creaking the floorboards and coating the world outside in a smooth blanket of white. 

You had always thoroughly enjoyed them, watching with childlike wonder from inside your room as flurries of ice rushed into view, blowing about the gray air in a frenzy. You liked the way it inspired warmth within your home and brought people together, how a mug of hot chocolate tickled your palms with its heat, sending shivers down your spine as your backyard froze over. 

Your boyfriend, Choso, had never gotten the privilege to experience a snowstorm in full flux. You had been excited for him to witness it with you for the first time and prepared the essentials, sparking the fireplace, fixing hot beverages, and putting on soft music that played softly in the background. While you were captured by the weather as the two of you sat on your shared sofa, you in his lap and a heavy blanket wrapped around both of your bodies, the brunette was far more interested in what was transpiring within the room.

His fingers tapped and traced against your thigh, heavy eyes gazing up at you as you rambled on to him about how beautiful the snow looked from there, swirling and dancing about as though it had a mind of its own. He would hum every now and then to show that you had his attention, but he couldn’t deny that he was far more intrigued by you, not by the weather. Not in the slightest.

Jade eyes danced over the movement of your jaw, the occasional pull and part of your soft lips as you spoke. His eyes glazed over, catching each spec of dampness that coated the ridges in your lips as you lifted your mug to your mouth. He studied the way your throat moved as you cautiously drank in the warm liquid, hands cupped gingerly around the ceramic piece, then the way your tongue slid slowly over your top lip to gather the sweetness from the rim of your mouth, pursing your lips inward. 

“Cho?”

Your perfect voice sank into his mind as he dragged his eyes away from your mouth to meet yours, pupils blown wide and cheeks dusted with pink from both his recovery from stepping outside and the impact of your contact. You touched the nape of his neck gently, setting your cup down to turn to face him as his hand slid up your back, keeping you upright and close to him, oh so close. 

“You okay? You still cold?”

How could he be cold within the embrace of your heat? So enticing, so whole, so full of you. There was no way for him to have been cold as long as he was by your side, heart bursting into flames at the very slightest touch of your fingers. He looked at your slightly concerned face and flustered, still somehow nervous under your gaze though you had been together for close to a month now. 

He was prepared to tell you that he was fine when your other hand slid over the curve of his cheekbone to hold his cheek in your palm. His lashes fluttered and he hummed, addicted to you. “A little,” he ended up saying shamelessly, eager for you to press yourself further into him so that he could practically suffocate at your will.

You made a small noise that sounded like a coo and curled impossibly closer into him, wrapping your other arm tighter around his neck as your hand on his cheek brought him up to your lips.  Choso melted, allowing you to guide him into your tenderness without hesitation. Your lips met his softly, deftly, and he practically sighed, taken completely by all of you.

“Sorry love,” you whispered against him, kissing softly at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll turn up the heat more.”

The half curse’s eyes almost went wide when he felt you try to move against him. “No,” he stopped you before you could even think of setting a foot to the ground, your legs being held tighter to your boyfriend. You looked at him curiously. “I’m sorry, no, I’m okay. Don’t go anywhere.”

You giggled lightly, understanding. “Okay,” you smiled, kissing him gently again.

Choso relaxed against you, comforted by the fact that he knew you weren’t leaving him. When you moved to pull away from his lips for a second time, Choso was selfishly pressing them back in, fingers digging into the soft fluff of your pajama pants as he kissed you fervently. 

You loved kissing your boyfriend. He was always so sweet and needy with the way he kissed, shyly bumping his lips against yours in a peck before breaking away to press in the smallest bit harder, succumbing to the taste of you and regaining a sense of confidence alongside the building desire in his gut. He liked you practically on top of him when he kissed you, hovering over him as he tilted his head to follow your mouth as you straddled his lap, caging him beneath the softness of your face, of your gaze, of your heavenly mouth. 

You held his face to yours, the soft symphony of lips smacking rumbling beneath the crackle of the flame before you, providing the only source of dim, delicate light within your living room. The wind proceeded to knock against the window as your legs surrounded Choso’s thighs, his large hands hoisting you up over him and keeping your waist secure, connected. Making out heatedly was the farthest you and Choso had ever gone in regard to your intimate lives, but the way your boyfriend was desperately pressing up into you with an involuntarily buck of his hips toward your crotch, you could tell that there was something more he wanted. That both of you wanted.

You broke away from him slowly to catch his eyes, both pairs sunken with desire. His brows were knitted together desperately, lips parted as he breathed heavily into you and watched you closely, cheeks flustered. “What is it baby?” your voice asked out breathlessly, lips still brushing over his, his head twitching beneath you. 

Choso dragged his hands along your legs, from your knees up to your thighs over the fabric of your soft plaid pants. A look of slight embarrassment crossed his face as he looked at you, eager yet unsure of how to express so. “I want…” he started in a weighted exhale, chest falling heavily as you danced your fingers over his neck and his chest. He looked down then back up, distracted yet captured by you, all of you. “I want to feel you,” he sighed.

You could feel something harden against the inside of your thigh the moment the words left him and manifested into reality. Your heart jumped as you studied him, the way his lips twitched slowly when he felt the very same movement below. He looked down again as though pained, sliding his hands to grasp your hips and strained a soft groan. 

“S-Sorry,” he grumbled. “I just think… I want you so badly right now,” he confessed earnestly, glancing back up at you sheepishly, your heart palpitating at the adorable sight. “Is that alright?”

God, Choso was so sweet, asking for permission as though you hadn’t already sworn that you were his and his to take whenever either of you were ready. The air around you thickened as the fire glowed warmly against the side of your faces, enhancing the needy gleam in his eyes as he stared up at you, anxiously, lustfully. 

“You want me how?”

The pads of his fingers squeezed your hips every now and then as he awaited you, trying so hard to be patient and gauge what you were thinking, what you wanted. 

“I want to have sex with you,” his deep voice rumbled out, and you were already aching for him at the thought. While this wasn’t something unexpected to you, you understood that taking your relationship to the next level was a big deal for the both of you. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you knew that you wanted it so badly. You wanted to show him how much you loved him, to feel him against you in every sense of the word.  

You could see your boyfriend falter slightly, doubting himself when you questioned him as though he hadn’t been more sure of anything in his entire life. The light in Choso’s eyes flickered as he nodded rather certainly, pressing his soft lips together.

“Do you want to?” 

His question came out so innocently, eyes searching yours in earnest, and you melt for him. “Of course I do, Cho. I love you so much.”

He trembled, hands freezing on your hips. “I love you too,” he murmured, a sudden vibrance in his low tone. He leaned up slightly, seeking your lips again. “I’ve wanted you for so long, (Y/n), please. I’ve been wanting to make you feel good for so long,” he confessed.

Your gut swarmed into a mass of butterflies as he kissed you again, eager for a chance to taste you over and over again until nothing but you was left for him to think of for the rest of time. You fell into him, looping your arms around him and massaging your lips into his slowly, each languid motion of your lips swimming against each other’s dragging out sensually. Choso’s body shivered against you with anticipation, digging his fingers into the skin that poked out under your sweater. 

It was mind numbing the way his palms touched over your bare sides, carefully, lovingly. 

You gently swiped your tongue over his bottom lip and his hips jerked again, blood, normally under his manipulation, rushing to print into his sweats and against your skin. He parted his lips, welcoming the touch of your tongue against his.

Your wet muscles tangoed together languidly, pushing and swirling over the other, searching for the taste of your warm, wet caverns. The sound of Choso grunting against you spurred you on, your hips pushing eagerly up against his. The brunette’s brows furrowed, the sugary chocolate taste of you from your cocoa smothering him in arousal. 

You had him in the palm of your hands wrapped tightly around your finger. He would have done anything for you if you’d asked him if it meant he was gifted the chance of loving you, of touching you, of massaging his tongue into your mouth and drawing out precious soft moans that complemented the groans building in his throat, of smoothing his unsteady hands over the fat of your bum and pushing you up into him to meet the third buck of his hips. You could have done anything to him, and he would have thanked you, thrusting up into the heat of your thighs as your hands ran over his face.

You pulled away to duck your head gracefully, lips meeting just under his jaw in a feather light peck. Choso’s breath hitched in his throat, his chin tilting back subconsciously as your mouth melted over his throat, the affectionate graze of your lips and tongue sending his body into flames. You knew exactly how to work him up without even going farther than kissing him, pressing your chest to his and curling your fingers into the roots of his hair.

Your kisses marked over his neck and swam down to his collarbone, pressing with such love and care as though you were taking all the time in the world to appreciate him. “Take off your shirt for me, Cho,” you leaned into his ear to tell him, each motion you took and word you spoke making his head spin with their angelic, yet seductive tone. He didn’t even fix his mouth to say anything before he was already reaching down to tug his shirt over his head with the help of your soft hands. 

You watched as he peeled the fabric over his head, pale abdominals flexing deliciously as his elbows rose up and his shirt caught over his face. He finally popped his head from, dropping the shirt onto the floor beside him and relocking his eyes with yours, seeking your next request. You ran your hands slowly over his skin, detailing each bump and scar over his enormous pecs and all the way down to his well defined v-line teasing out of his pants. Choso watched the trek of your pretty hands intensely, inhaling slowly and sharply through his nose as they traveled lower and lower. 

You unwrapped your legs from around his waist to scoot yourself back, leaning down to kiss softly across the milky skin of his chest. He jerked beneath you, sucking in a breath. “Relax, baby,” you murmured, and he obeyed. 

Choso didn’t like the fact that you were climbing off of him, but once he saw where you were headed, his mind went fuzzy. You reached down to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging slowly with your lips to his abdomen, revealing the tent poking angrily against his boxers. His eyes went wide, heart racing in his chest and hand hesitantly reaching down to you.

“(Y/n), you don’t have to-”

“Shhh,” you shushed him. You dotted kisses to the outside of his underwear’s fabric, sweatpants pooling around his knees now. You glanced up over your lashes to catch the beautiful sight of your boyfriend staring down at you through heavy lids and sharp violet eyes over his nose, brown locks sweeping handsomely over his forehead and around his shoulders. “Is this okay?” you asked in a murmur, lips ghosting over the bulge of his throbbing dick. You puckered your lips softly over his print and he reached to grip the side of the sofa, grinding his teeth together and jutting his hips toward your nose.

“F-Fuck,” he hissed out, nodding rapidly. “Yeah… yeah, that’s more than okay.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were hooking your finger into his boxers and lazily, watching with unwavering focus as his happy trail unveiled itself just seconds before his pretty cock was springing free and slapping up against his stomach. Choso winced, desperately holding back a moan as you helped him tug off the rest of his lower garments.

His eyes were trained on you as though he would die if he looked away, your lips teasingly meeting the skin surrounding his shaft before they touched it gently. He whimpered, moving to slap his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from making any further noise.  You hummed against him, sliding your lips up to his angry red tip, already oozing dots of precum as you hovered over him. You eased your tongue over it, wrapping your lips after to suck the inch of liquid away with a pop.

“Hah-” Choso gasped, muscles tensing and flexing beneath you in pleasure. He wanted more, more of your lips, more of your tongue on his aching length. You looked so gorgeous, wrapping your fingers around his base with your eyes glued to his, watching each reaction you pulled out of him when you licked a long stripe along the side of his long, veiny dick, so heavy in your hand. “(Y/n),” he sighed raggedly, biting onto the back of his knuckle with curled brows. He needed you so badly, it was beginning to hurt. “Please, please keep going.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” you reminded him, and he was whimpering, tension easing away as your other hand smoothed over his beefy thigh, lips circling to finally capture the whole of his leaking to tip in your mouth. Choso choked on a strained sigh, hips bucking once more involuntarily, jolting the upper half of his length further into your mouth accidentally.

“Shit, I’m sorry, m’sorry,” he breathed. “Just felt so- so g-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence when your hand started stroking up and down over the base of his cock, rotating in a painfully slow, circular motion while your tongue swirled over his tip, lips sucking around his girth gently. Choso moaned, a long, shredded, deep sound that sent a throb straight to your clit. You immediately determined that this sound he released was the most astounding thing you had ever heard in your life and continued with your mouth’s movements, bobbing your head to take him into the drooling, heated pool of your mouth.

“Baby,” he groaned, eyes fluttering as he lowered his knuckles from his mouth to place his hand atop your head, smoothing affectionately over your hair as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him off. The sound of your slurps hit Choso’s ears as you hand continued to rub his length, squeezing your hand around him ever so gently before wrapping the other hand around just above, synchronizing the strokes in opposite directions. 

Choso’s jaw fell open, hot shallow breaths escaping his parted lips while he watched you, your head ducking to take more of him as his tip slid against the warm silkiness of the roof of your mouth repeatedly. He had fallen in love with the feeling of your lips and the touch of your hands long ago, but as both swallowed the whole of his twitching length while your hums of satisfaction vibrated against his sensitive cock, he was falling in love all over again. 

He squirmed beneath you, broken moans and whines spilling past his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of slobber spilling down his girth and smearing over your lips from your mouth, yet his eyelids proceeded to weigh lower over his jaded irises, breath pattern growing uneven.

“Baby, please,” he murmured, voice pitching into a warbled whimper. You picked up your pace, bobbing up and down faster and slurping him into you as though he was your last meal. It was disgusting, the way his precum leaked into your spit and dribbled down your chin, dripping onto his balls and soaking the couch, though the loving stroke of his hand over your head contrasted the sloppiness. His hips bucked again, slowly pushing to meet the bob of your head so that he was gently fucking your throat. He moaned out loudly, his head falling back and eyes falling shut, Adam’s apple bouncing. He was completely lost in pleasure, conquered by your beautiful lips sucking prettily over his cock. 

“Please, please, please, ah, f-fuck, keep- ngh- going baby. Please, it’s so- so good…”

He was so mouthy. You absolutely loved every bit of it. You could feel him twitching inside you, signifying that he was already close to finishing. You moaned around him sweetly, tucking your head and pushing forward to take all of him to the back of your throat, hands pressing against his sides to give your mouth room. You were overzealous, taking for more than you were capable of, but you wanted to see Choso’s eyes roll into the back of his head. You wanted to hear those gorgeous moans roll from his tongue, you wanted to taste all of his perfect cock, sliding in and out of your throat until you were choking.

“Ahhh, fuckkk! babyyy, fuck, oh my fucking godddd,” he whined, a mess of himself as he pathetically humped into you. 

Your own eyes rolled into your head as you bobbed rapidly over him, tip hitting to the back of your throat with sinful plunging sounds. You were whining into him as he groaned out, writhing beneath you as his balls tightened. You felt his hand still upon you, grasping gently into your hair. His head lifted suddenly again to catch the vision of you, eyes watery and lips drenched over his dick; a sight to behold. “Y’so- so pretty, baby, please- fuck, I can’t- feels so good, so gooddd-“

It didn’t take long for him to snap, plunging your head downward and stilling in your throat, hot ropes of his cum decorating the inside of your mouth as he moaned, eyes dazed and rolling backward, voiced gasps heaving from his chest. 

You took it all, swallowing generously as his cum trickled down your throat and spilled from the sides of your mouth. His body went limp beneath you, grip in your hair loosening as you sat up and popped his length from your mouth. You gazed down at him as his thumb reached to swipe away streaks of cum from your chin. 

He was coated in a shiny layer of sweat and his brown hair stuck to his flushed skin, chest expanding and toned muscles gleaming in the firelight and afterglow of his orgasm. “Baby,” he whispered and you smiled softly, lifting up to straddle him again and wrap him into your arms, his own following and winding around you sleepily, securing you to his bare body.

He tucked his nose into the crook of your neck as he held you, struggling to adjust to reality once more as he continued to recover from the finish you gave him. “You okay? I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he muttered with a hush into your skin, melting his hands beneath your sweater and up your back as he savored you against him, closing his eyes and breathing you in.

“Don’t worry, baby, I liked it,” you whispered to him, and you could feel him sigh in relief against you.

“Good, because you made me feel… amazing,” he praised gently. “I love your mouth. Love your hands so much, so so much. Felt so good…”

He was kissing your neck, then your cheek, and pulling back to kiss your swollen lips, tasting a hint of himself lingering on your tongue. 

“You take your shirt off now. It’s your turn,” he said tenderly, raising it over your hand from inside of the fabric. 

The brown haired man looked down over your bare torso, your perfect tits sitting upright over your smooth stomach, (s/c) skin capturing the fire light enchantingly. You flushed under his gaze, his purple eyes roaming every inch of your figure with swelling ardor. 

“Let me see you, beautiful,” he pleaded, stroking over the plush of your shoulder then down, over your chest and grazing at your hardened nipple. You flinched and he looked up in a panic. 

“Sorry-“

“No, Cho, it’s okay,” you reassured him, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands to cup your breasts within his palms. “Just sensitive… but it feels nice when your hands are on them.”

He soaked in the sight, the feeling, hands curving around the plush fat, groping them experimentally within his large palms. You let out a weak sigh, lips parting and back arching slightly. The brunette caught the reaction with haste, heart skipping a beat. “Like this?” he rolled his thumb lightly over one of your nipples and you shuddered.

“Y-Yes, just like that.”

The brunette snatched your response as a means to continue eagerly. He moved to hold your back as he adjusted the both of you, laying you back on the end of the couch as he climbed over top of you with your legs still hooked around his torso, settling you onto the soft cushions with ease. You looked bashfully up at him, the confidence you had moments ago when sucking his dick fading surprisingly fast as he caged over you, his large frame trapping you beneath his. You felt vulnerable like this, lying beneath your boyfriend with your tits out, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way with any other person. 

Choso’s sweat-dampened hands reached back over your tits, squeezing them generously as he watched the plush fat jiggle like fluid within his grasp. He was mesmerized, captivated by your body. “So pretty,” he marveled to himself, running his tongue over his damp lips hungrily. He glanced up at you to ensure that he was still in the clear, your dizzy (e/c) eyes granting him all the permission in the world.

There was no stopping him now. He had your beautiful body to explore, to please, to worship. There was nothing on this planet that would have been able to pull him away from you.

The brunette ducked down in a similar fashion you had earlier when you kissed his chest, and took the whole of your nipple into his mouth, sucking graciously. Your back arched, chest curving forward and into his jaw. He groaned, gripping your tit tighter and lapping hungrily at your bud. You writhed in response to the sensation, the sensitivity in your nipples heightening the more Choso took advantage. You reached your hands out to the sides of his face, holding him as he pressed his groin down into your crotch, securing your body with his length pressed into you, twitching.

“Ngh- Cho,” you gasped, head tilting backward. Your boyfriend knew he was doing something right when your head moved the exact same way he did when you were sucking him off. 

Choso closed his eyes with you, relishing in his bliss as he released your nipple to move over to the other one. He kissed the skin passionately, sucking bruises all over your breasts, guided by his lust for the taste of your skin. Your tits were perfect, soft and malleable at his will. He would have died like this if he could. 

He lifted his head to kiss your cheek, then your forehead, then nose and mouth and chin. “Perfect,” he exhaled in between kisses. “You’re perfect, so perfect, (Y/n),” he babbled nonsensically, ducking back down to your chest then slowly traveling down your stomach, lips finding any piece of skin he possibly could. 

When he reached your pants, he kissed along the fat of your thigh through the fabric, greedy to feel more, to see more, to taste more of the girl he knew to be the very love of his life.. You squeaked as the purple eyed man climbed off of the couch and crouched down at the side of it, tugging you carefully toward him by the hem of your pants. He lowered himself down to his knees, your upper back now propped up against the couch’s vertical cushions. 

Choso looked up at you lovingly as he moved to tug your pants down your legs. His eyes flickered down at the motion, you helping him by shimmying out of the article of clothing. He studied the manner in which the fabric peeled down the plush of your soft thighs, teasingly revealing her skin to him. 

He took a moment to take in the sight of your bare body and the lace pair of black panties that adorned her bottom half. A weighted, eager breath escaped his lips as he pushed your thighs open slowly, smoothing his lips sluggishly over your inner thighs. He could smell you all over him, and the arousal seeping from your cunt and soaking your underwear.

Choso was losing his mind.

He gradually made his way further toward your clothed heat, elongating the process so that he could absorb as much of you as he possibly could on his own time. The tip of his nose brushed over the lace that stretched over your skin, pecking lightly over where your clit happened to be located.

He knew that he had hit some sort of target when your legs jolted around him. “Is that sensitive too?” he asked and you nodded, breathlessly.

“Yeah, baby, right there,” you affirmed, and something possessive spurring within him had him swiftly dragging your panties off to see more. 

A sting of arousal stretched as he shed you of your underwear, leading him to fixate his gaze upon your glistening entrance. He practically salivated, digging his fingers into the outside of her thighs whilst his elbows rested beneath them. He tugged you close so that his breath fanned over your wet pussy. “Gorgeous,” he praised again.

He ducked back down, fingers sinking into the plump flesh of your thighs, and flattened his tongue at the base of her lips experimentally, dragging it slowly along her lips and gathering her wetness on his warm tongue.

God. You tasted amazing.

You mewled out and Choso watched you intently from between your legs, the taste of you so sweet in his mouth. A low, satisfied groan rumbled through his chest and he dove back in with sudden urgency. Your hands flew to his soft brown tangles, gripping tightly as his tongue swirled around your pussy slowly.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as your body surrendered itself to bliss. Choso grunted, his own eyes closing as he licked you out passionately, skin setting itself ablaze as he devoured your fruit with the same intensity that you had taken with him. “Cho, baby, yes,” you begged, fistfuls of his hair scrunched within your fists.

If your words weren’t enough to keep him going, the way you tugged at his hair sent his body into overdrive. Pathetic moans flew from your mouth, leading the half curse to tighten his hold around you and secure your lower half to his face. 

His tongue lapped hungrily at your throbbing cunt while his lips smoothed over your clit, sucking you into the heat of his mouth as he took dominance over your weakness. Your legs squirmed around his head, ankles locking over his shoulders and around his neck. He was suffocated by you, happily, both restricting himself and you from escaping.

He was so good at this.

His pace suddenly quickened, tongue darting in and out of your walls as he switched between motions. The sinful sound of slurping echoed throughout your living space, your moans picking up volume along with it. 

Choso glided his tongue from your core to the bundle of nerves above it, kissing it gently before taking it between his lips and sucking. You cried out, grip tightening on his hair to the point where it had begun to cause pain, but the pain only made Choso’s dick harder as he sucked graciously onto your delicious clit. He couldn’t get enough.

You started to try to squirm away, for the sensation had begun to prove to be too much. Your legs shivered and your fingers tugged wildly at Choso’s hair. The pale skinned man groaned helplessly in desperate opposition, locking his fingers together over your abdomen so that you could no longer move around. “Please don’t go, baby,” he murmured, muffled by your dripping pussy around his lip. “You taste so good, need to keep tasting you.” The motions of his tongue continued, faster, adding more pressure. 

“Fuck, feels so good, Cho,” you exclaimed mindlessly, voice straining into a high-pitched moan. 

Choso proceeded faster, gluttonous for your juices and for the sound of his name from your mouth.

You arched yourself further into him, chasing the approach of your incoming high. “‘M ‘so close,” you whined, thighs tightening around his head. “St-Stick a finger inside, baby. Please. Please.”

Choso moaned into you, desperate to oblige to make you feel good because of him. He released one of his hands to creep it back under your thigh. He focused his mouth’s attention solely on your clit while his middle finger slipped past your folds and into the warmth of your dripping cunt. You cried as Choso started at a slow pace, thrusting his finger in and out, a squelching sound accompanying the slurp of his tongue over your messy cunt. 

His fingers quickly matched the pace of his tongue, pistoning in and out with remarkable speed. He could feel your slick coating his fingers as your walls quivered around them, unable to hold on much longer. 

“Do it, beautiful, please,” he begged, groaning as your pussy bumped to ride against him. 

A tingling sensation rose in your lower abdomen as your high came crashing down suddenly. Your grip in Choso’s hair went taut and your legs locked around his head, hips grinding into his face and his now two fingers. Choso furrowed his brows, riding you through his climax as slick dribbled onto his palm and down your thighs onto the couch.

Choso had no intention of stopping even after your orgasm had occurred. His mind had become a puddle, his mouth slurping up your sticky, creamy arousal without a moment’s break. He was obsessed with you, with your pussy, with how it soaked his chin and his fingers and the floor. He couldn’t stop, hungrier than he had been before, nothing but the intoxicating taste of your cunt occupying his head. He snapped his fingers from inside of you and gripped your thighs again, pushing them upward so that your knees dangled by her ears. 

“Just let me get a little bit more, sweetheart,” he whispered headedly against your pussy. “So pretty, you taste so good, can’t stop yet. Not yet, please.”

You sobbed, releasing his hair to push at his head, but Choso was a man on a mission. He was enamored by the taste of you, completely whipped by the way your cunt responded to his mouth. Your helpless pussy continued to leak arousal, smearing his face and drooling into the puddle beneath you. His tongue moved faster, and faster, lapping you up for everything you were worth. 

Your toes curled and your clit throbbed from overstimulation, tears pooling into the corners of her eyes. Your moans had transitioned into desperate pleas and ragged, messy wails. It drove Choso insane.

“Too much! M’gonna cum again- AH!”

The entire bottom half of your body was shaking, legs soaked, but Choso didn’t care. He wanted to keep hearing you cry for him. He was addicted, starving.

He proceeded his torture, the melodious symphony of your begs filling his ears. He shuddered, dragging his tongue from your sopping entrance back up to your clit in rapid circles. His grip on your thighs was sure to leave marks, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was your pussy in his mouth, responding to him at his will.You were so good, so delicious.

He couldn’t stop. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a knot building in your stomach along with a foreign urge to pee. You tried once more to scramble away, but Choso’s incredible strength left you completely stuck. 

“Choso!” you cried, and with that, you came once again, a stream of liquid flying from your core the moment Choso finally broke away. His chin and neck were sprayed with your squirt, his eyes watching in a trance as it sprouted out and onto his skin. You twitched uncontrollably, tensing until you collapsed back into the cushions, completely spent. 

The brunette stood quickly, climbing back over top of you and maneuvering you to lay back once more. “(Y/n)?” he called out, caressing your damp skin and looking over you with worried eyes. You hummed in a trance, peeling your blurry eyes back open to see your boyfriend hovering over you again, his chest and chin dripping with your slick over his flushed skin. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I got carried away. You just tasted so good, baby, I’m sorry,” he apologized nonsensically and you shook your head, smiling gently and reaching for his shoulders. He ducked down for you, allowing your hands to grasp around his neck. He swiped the back of his hand over his chin, eying you worriedly. 

“That felt amazing, Cho,” you told him softly, watching the concern melt away to be replaced by bashful pride and longing. “I’ve never felt like that before.”

He cradled your arm to lower it and bring your hand to his lips in a soft kiss. “Really?” his eyes gleamed and you nodded.

“C’mere,” you tugged at him, and he was pressed into you without a second to spare. His lips were hot, the strong scent of you consuming your senses as he kissed you tenderly, smoothing over the aches in your legs and guiding them back around his waist, arms caging either side of your head as your fingers tickled the side of his jaw. 

Below, you felt his still hardened length brush against your clit and you jumped, breaking away to look down. Choso caught your gaze and smoothed a hand over your face. “We can stop if you’re tired,” he said to you. “You’ve already done so much.”

You shook your head, holding him close and kissing against his temple. “No,” you denied. “Want you inside me now, Cho.”

How much more sexy could you possibly get?

Choso’s heart was pounding once more, dick jumping in reaction to your words. Violet hues sank into yours as he asked again. “You’re positive, baby?”

“Yes,” you exhaled, kissing the outside of his ear and nuzzling your nose against his skin. “Please.”

You were going to kill him one of these days, he was sure.

He groaned softly, holding your gaze when you pulled back to look at him, eye contact deep enough to cast a peek into the array of stars and galaxies above. You reached your hand down, holding his stare, and gently wrapped your fingers around his dick. His lips parted as you stroked softly, before guiding him toward you. He helped, cradling his weighted cock and aiming it toward your drenched hole, smearing the tip past your lips to find it.

“Oh god,” he sighed. You were so slippery, so welcoming. His eyes bored into yours when he found it, pressing and sliding inside, sheathing his girthy cock into your slick coated heat gradually. You gripped his shoulders tightly, feeling the way his length stretched the walls of your pussy so drastically. You gritted your teeth together, pressing your forehead against Choso’s as he leaned his against yours, harsh breaths meeting each other’s. He trained his eyes on the scene below, his fat cock sinking into your folds, your slick gathering around his shaft the moment he bottomed out.

You moaned out together, pressing in close and entangling your limbs. Choso slammed his lips into yours sloppily, stilling the second he was fully inside of you. “You’re so tight, baby-ngh- hah-!” he exhaled against your lips.

You clenched around him, adjusting to his mass as you swallowed him into you. “Cho-s’big,” you murmured, your words babbling into nonsense.

“Gonna move now,” he warned you, sliding back out slowly, the veins in his pretty cock dragging against your walls. “Gonna- fuckkkk,” he was already pushing back into you, a singular squelch resounding from your connection. “Oh, baby,” he whimpered. “So goodddd.”

“Cho,” you whined, clawing at his toned back. “Keep moving, Cho, I need it. I need you so bad, please fuck me, baby.”

“‘Kay, baby, okay. I’ll t-take it slow, I’ll- mmm… shit…”

He slid back out of you and plunged in again, dragging the motion out so you could feel every inch of him press into you. You moaned, muscles in your face releasing as pleasure overcame your expression, Choso’s hand gripping your waist tightly as he set an uneven, perfect, languid pace. Your heels dug into his lower back, knees bumping against his sides as he thrusted carefully into you, holding you as though you were a piece of glass he was afraid to watch break. You were a mess beneath him, mewling and murmuring nonsense as his loud breaths came down over you, his hair mashing against your forehead before he ducked his head into your shoulder, his back muscles flexing with each thrust of his hot length into your greedy pussy.

“Choso,” you begged, the sensation of his dick filling you up so wholly turning you to sap at his hand, indescribable ecstasy waving over your body and washing away any previous discomfort. Your swollen clit bumped against the ridge of his abs with his thrusts, sending shivers down your spine as she quivered into his mass. 

“Nghhh, fuckkkk, y’feel so good inside me, Cho. So good, I can feel all of youuuu!”

Choso was so loud in your ear, panting, choking over his groans, growling, whimpering, moaning. His voice was so hot when desperate for you, rugged and heavy, blazing with the pleasure that overtook him as your walls suctioned around his dick, dragging him in. “I can- ngh- f-feel you too, baby, so good,” he blabbered, kissing across your neck, his hair tickling your chin. Your fingers dragged down his back, eyes hazy as he murmured sweet nothings into you. “So pretty, so fucking pretty. I need you, baby, need to be inside you. Just like this pretty, oh my god…”

He was making love to you so passionately, tucking his arms under and around your waist as you tightened your legs over him, arms wrapping him to you tightly as he speared deep into your walls. The wind proceeded to howl against the window, but neither of you paid the snow any further mind, far too enraptured with the conjoining of your bodies, of your souls, of your love. 

“Love you, Cho,” you whimpered, gasping loudly when a sting of arousal pooled from around his dick, dripping over your ass and smacking into his hips against yours lewdly. “Love you s’much,” you cried, moaning louder when his pace fastened.

“Love you too,” he whined into you. “Love you, m-more than anyth’ng, love the way you feel, love your pussy so much, so so much. I love you.”

“I love you!”

You didn’t know how long the two of you were on that couch that night, or whether the storm had passed or not. Skin slapping against skin lifted over the roar of the fire partnered by your escalating moans, which could have likely been heard down the hall in your apartment complex, but it didn’t matter. 

What mattered was Choso lips crushing against your jaw, murmuring proclamations of devotion and praise over your being and your beautiful pussy, gripping him and dragging two more orgasms out of his body, onto your stomach and deep inside your heat. What mattered was the push of your tits against his pecs as your bodies rocked into the cushions, fucking each other for all you were worth and for all that you mean to one another. What mattered was your breathless pleas, your loving embrace, your second, third spray of fluids over Choso’s abdomen.

What mattered was your love, how beautifully the two of you had consummated it, and how you simultaneously kept each other warm in the midst of the storm.

[tottentz]

KISS ME FROM THE RUSH .ᐟ ── honkai star rail ?! ❛ i can't get enough ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine, blade, dr. ratio, argenti, sunday, jing yuan.

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 WARNINGS ! mdni. reader has no pronouns but has afab anatomy, soft dom ! character & inexperienced ! reader, dry humping / aventurine, praising, pet names, fingering / boothill + jing yuan, oral ( receiving ) / blade, blowjob + cum swallowing / dr. ratio, implied multiple orgasm + overstimulation, dacriphilia, lil of corruption kink ( if you squint ). ♡ˎˊ˗

mature content ahead ! + please take care of yourself before proceeding.

aventurine .ᐟ

slender fingertips dig into the excess squish of your hips, prompting you to wriggle your waist and forcibly slot your pelvis where aventurine ushers you atop his lap, bunching your skirt in his fidgety palms as you delectably initiate a merciless roll of your hips that had his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans and his own hips eagerly bucking upwards.

he devours you in his embrace, and presses a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth before swallowing every mewl-like cry that parts your lips.

the lengthening drag led your clit to the silver buckle of his belt; pulpous bud sinking against the metal and flattening whenever aventurine thrusted his hips and temporarily pinned the bundle, catching the sensory mound before it dislodged and continued its previous rut.

you hissed through your teeth, breaking away from his lips to speckle rosy contortions into his skin. aventurine impatiently rocks his hips as if a mutt graveling in his heat, stiffening cock occasionally bumping your clit before the imprint would card through your soiled unde, gliding trough the dampened fabric with a friction that could kindle fire.

"that's it, baby," he coos, "almost there..."

he sounds breathless as he speaks, body shuddering when you placed a hot palm to his nape, grounding yourself and forcing coarse friction where you straddled him, desperate to clash against his pants as if you'd soon wear the denim to nothing and leave him bare.

"see...now isn't that nice?" he breathlessly laughs, "you're doing so well..., does it feel good?"

his hips erratically jerk, and the breathless pants from his mouth divulged his own craving, lips blowing against your collar before biting his presence into your skin. he's just as far off as you. ruby red and temple coated with sweat, aventurine is flushed and trembling under your hold. 

all he gets as a response is a pathetic whine, making him grin, "of course it does, sweetheart..." he so desperately wants to ravish what sensible though remained of your dizzying head; fuck you until you couldn't discern the hour of the day, but he refrained. not yet.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it, cum for me. c'mon give it to me, show me how you pretty you are, yeah?." 

and you do, you gasp and squeal when the high finally crashes over you. he slows his thrusts, barely letting you go before carefully pressing back in, working you diligently through the high s you tremble and cream all over his pants like the sweet thing you are. 

blade .ᐟ

to his surprise, you don't yelp or squeak or become flustered when he occupied himself between your legs, only biting your lip as wild pulsations rendered your brain to mush and melted your forefront conscious into a haze of silver lining.

 matching the complex twist of the interstate, your abdomen began to tie its knot of arousal and nervousness, your posture tensing into a deep arch that forced your head against the leather seat and a whimper to fall from your glossed lips, and before you could cover your face with your hands, blade quickly hold your wrists down again.

"don't." his voice is mereley above a whisper as erratic shivers shook your withering figure against the bed.

 "you okay?" you choke intead a series of strangled moans following his order.

"i'm okay." he muses on that notion for a time, flicking his thumbs over your throbbing clit, the strokes stimulating the hardened bud that felt as if would burst in due time. nimbly dragging the anxious tips of your fingers between your legs. "it feels good?." 

you sniffle and nod, "really good..."

he hums and leans down, kissing your clit for one fleeting second before his hands are on your knees, keeping them pinned to your chest while he sat between your thighs as he licks at you, tentatively until he hears you quietly moan. then he's lapping, eager, pressing his face firmer against your cunt. 

the pressure was unfamiliar but it wasn't bad. in fact it felt really good, all the while your taste fills his mouth, floods his tongue, and he knows without a doubt that he would try this over again.

"blade-!" you gasp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair, effectively messing it up.

his cock is painfully hard in his pants but he can't bring himself to care -- not when he's got your spread like this, working your towards your high with every touch he gives you.

and when you finally cum, it's with a harsh tug of his hair. drawing his name from your lips, you arched further into the sheets as the last of your orgasm shook your weak limbs. his name carried significance. the tenor more than just a lovely echo of your rapture. 

he hums, opening his pretty eyes to look at you. when he pulls away, theres a string a spit connected to his lips before he smiles, letting you close your thighs and curl up. the sight of you breathless and teary eyed from the intense orgasm makes him want to go for seconds.

dr. ratio .ᐟ

"what do you want?" veritas asks. he shifts a bit, the mattress creaking again. a hand lands in your hair. it doesn't pull or tangle. gentle. too gentle. he never pulls when asked; for now, you slowly relaxe into this.

"it would be good if you hurry up, too,"you remained at attention. readily awaiting as if a devoted minion who had yet to receive orders.

"impatient."veritas hums, his touch unhurried. he takes his time more than he takes. you have never known what to do with it. you still don't, now, with goosebumps on your skin.

"and you're awfully slow," you say. "i just wanna make you feel good, you know."

there's a low, thoughtful hum. veritas is always thinking. you never know what he's thinking about, but veritas Ratio is a beautiful frowner, anyways.

"very well" a sigh. tiredness, fondness. you are too dizzy on pleassure to tell "open," veritas directs, lightly touching beneath your chin. his hands are warm. he touches with purpose. efficiency, but no lack of gentleness. he touches you like a craftsman touches his work. you open your mouth.

you impishly swiped your tongue past your lips before bringing your parted mounds to the base of his dick. puckishly dragging your tongue against his pulsating sex, you followed the protruding vessels of blue, soon hallowing your cheeks as to sink your head towards his pelvis. 

it earns him a soft hiss. veritas is never loud, but he's always honest. you rub your tongue along the underside, tracing the crown, flicking the slit. 

a whispered curse word. veritas' hips press up a little, his hand settles on your head, there is too much saliva in your mouth, you don't know how to do it, and so you let it make a mess instead. 

veritas curses again, his hand stays in place, though he's not trying to hold you in place. he makes a few shallow thrusts, cock sliding deeper, rubbing the back of your throat until you gag on your own spit, and then veritas eases you off to come up for air.

"good," veritas tells you, low and rough at your water-welled tear ducts glossed your eyes in crystalline solution. veritas is gentle even in this.

he warns you that he's close, and you moan like encouragement. his pace gentles. you are allowed to control the pace again, to pull off if you want to, but you stay.

veritas' thighs tense on either side of you, his breathings hallow and unsteady. he's always been beautiful in pleasure. all of him. veritas comes in waves on your tongue a moment later.  

"pretty." veritas says contemplatively, careful not to waste a drop, so when his hand falls from your hair to your spit-slick chin, examining you, he can whip the mess from your chin with his knuckles. ever kind, ever considerate. 

boothill .ᐟ

"stop staring" a moan rises in the back of your throat, and he thinks you look beatiful, how you shie away, hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand when your moans begin to get loud, closing your eyes in ecstasy, letting the unintelligible noises melt away as boothill's hand slips inside your underwear.

"'m'enjoying the view." he runs the other hand down from your face to your chest, it dances on your body, caresses the curve of your neck, the valley of your breasts, rolling the sensitive bud beneath his fingertips, mindful to place bruising kisses along your neck where deep shapes of his ministrations would be left for you to cover.

his lips latche onto the skin of your shoulder, and he worked his away along the base until kissing the incision of flesh that dimpled behind your ear. 

“look at ya,” perceptible to his observant gaze, your shoulders trembled enthusiastically, accompanying the quiver of your knees that were soon to clamp around his hand. “fudge, you're gon' be the death 'o me, darl.” he cooes against your heated skin, noting the way your hold on him tightened.

his fingers press inside, and the both of you groan together. his digits are slender, dangerous maybe, and he eases them in so slowly it makes you whine. your hips buck up against his hand, back arching, and he chuckles, a cold hand pressing down on your navel to keep your steady.

"there ya go. not so desperate after all, hm?" the sensation so riveting that you are tender into his arms as he fucks you, somehow both gentle and rough. 

his fingers are sharp but slow, calculated to hit against your sweet spot with every thrust. he's filling the silence with gentle hums, encouraging you as you wither away, gasping and panting and begging.

"too good f'me," he whispers, crowding himself against your chest so you feel the cold metal of his own pressed up againts your skin, all over you. "aren'tcha?" there's a retort on the tip of your tongue, but the moment you open your mouth to speak, his hand  squeeze your cheeks together "aren'tcha?"

you're nodding before you know it.

"i am," you whimper, hands bracing yourself up. your arms are quivering from the endless sensation of his big hand on you, slicking up and down and up and down slowly. he is bringing you to your climax with every soft kiss he press into your shoulder. "i'm good for you."

and you can't help the words that spill out of your mouth as you cum hard around his fingers, that twinge into the air between you. you shuddered and almost screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after the two ecstasies preceded it. 

unfamiliar with actions that caused your pretty little lips to squeal, boothill was sure to conduct each one, refusing to yield his practice until you had been blinded by sheer white, breathless and convulsing in his arms.

argenti .ᐟ

you hook your arms around argenti's neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. he doesn't reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. but in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other.

such as now, his heavy body draped over yours, hips flush against you with his thick cock buried inside you.

"shh," he coos, fingers laced between yours as you sob and wail into the bed, feet mindlessly kicking as you cum around his stationary cock. he presses his lips against your shoulder, "how do you feel?" he teases you as you sniffle and tearfully look at him over your shoulder.

"s'good," you whisper and he smiles so sweetly at you that it makes your heart flutter.

he chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them again across his hips. 

"i know it does," he responds, carefully rutting his hips against you, stirring his cock within your walls, "you came so quickly."

"'again-!" you cut off to moan when he suddenly pulls back, "wanna  cum again"

"again" he considers, and you jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. his look immediately morphs into something more captivatin, chuckling, "i'll make you cum again,"

but contrary to your expectations, argenti doesn't start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. you're about to ask what he's trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

"you are so beutiful," he assures. his sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. argenti grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises. 

his discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can't quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

deep. he's so impossibly deep that you fear it'll take you days to sweat him out. a trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as argenti slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm.his name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the aeons would let you have this man forever.

"argenti!" you squealed, gasping as you reached down to grab his wrist, "oh! wait, 'm gonna-!"

"it's alright," he assures, voice just as soft and even as ever, "just let it happen. want you to feel good for me."

your eyes roll back in your head and you gasp, al the while he whispered praises as you trembling and gushed, soaking his hand and cock. but he didn't mind, he just enjoyed the sight of you feeling good all because of him.

sunday .ᐟ

mass against his own. his chest is keenly pressed into your breasts, pinning you to the mattress with an intimidating vigor and a punishing snap of his hips. 

your ankles knock together behind his nape, and your knees crudely tense by your ears. a palm is cleaved at your waist, nails shoveling into the fat of your hips as the other hooks the bend of your knee into a firm mating press.

 your fingertips fiercely claw at his shoulders, scrambling for a pillar to keep your conscious ground and aware, but you can count the stars behind your glossy lids, another flitter of light flickering into the dark as the male slotted between your legs commences another tunneling of your tiny cunnie.

"'s too much—" tears descend the swell of your heated cheeks, droplets streaking your skin and smearing the mascara you previously applied to your fluttering lashes, brows tense and crinkled as your eyes lulled towards the back of your head and exposed the reddened white of your dazed optics.

"is that so?" a hum colored his tone, mocking and high, "i just want to be selfish and feel you cum around me. that's okay, isn't it?"

he lets your head fall to the bed again as he pauses the pounding of his hips to reach for your face, grabbing the fat of your flushed cheeks before he presss his thumb on your bottom lip.

you're embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. sunday doesn't say a word, but there's an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would've associated with him earlier.

"but do look pretty like this." his strong hand lets go of your face, instead moving to gently move your hair from your face where it's stuck to the mix of saliva and tears- the juxtaposition reminds you again of how much he actually cared."you know i always want to make you feel good."

a tap to your temple brings you out of your stupor- you're mindless, you're a mess, it's humiliating, but he smiles down at you. "you can give me one more, hm?"

you whimper; mewl as if language were unknown to you. all you can do is cry, sob, as his splits your little pussy in half. your name echoes from his kiss swollen lips as his fucks you harder into the mattress. his brain is in shambles; cluttered and screwed as if he had lost reasoning, but he was aware of himself; aware of his present endeavor-

he won't stop until you are sobbing his name, eagerly arching your tremoring pelvis into his own because he had begun to relentlessly hammer a delicate plot that induced your vision to flicker and blurrily haze with spangled glimmers of hot electricity.

jing yuan .ᐟ

there's just something so sweet about your voice when you are desperate. when you are laying in front of you, legs trashing as jing yuan watches, a small smile on his face as you try, try so hard to angle his fingers just right.

"can't," you whimper, free hand reaching out for him. but he leans back, smiling in faux sympathy. 

the nimble pads of his fingertips pried apart your slicken folds to clamp at the inflated bud between your legs, amber optics indifferent to your puppy-dog pout and repetitive mantra of plea as he forcibly held your thigh apart, eyes flittering the expanse of your skin when you pitifully cried and spoke incoherent requests he blatantly neglected to acknowledge.   

he hums softly, shifting closer to you and hoisting you up by your armpits, he settles you in his lap. "better?" he murmurs against your skin, taking the vibrator in your hands and pressing it up against her drooling cunt, buzzing along her clit. she chokes out a small, yes, before burying her face in your shoulder.

"feels good, doesn't it?," he whispers. "tell me."

he can feel you tensing every time he pushes his calloused fingers just a little deeper, the way your toes curl and your ankles dig into his back. he knows you feel good. he just wanna hear it. "'s good," you whimper. "good!— feels really good."

"gonna cum?" he cradles your face with his free hand, dipping his head down to press a small kiss to your lips, swallowing your breaths. "gonna cum for me, yeah?"

you nod. your brain's melted into pretty pink goo, oozing out of your ears with every second his fingers keep fucking into you. he pushes you, keeps pushing you into ecstasy, until your unravelling on his fingers. "oh," he coos. "so pretty, look at you."

you don't know when you start cumming. you don't know when you stop. he doesn't stop though, never stops. he keeps fucking into you, the sensation so riveting you don't even feel your third orgasm until it materialises in your trembling legs.

jing yuan hushes you. "just let me, dear," he makes quick work of your clit, having you gasping his name "so good f'me, yeah? cum, come on. i know you got it in you."

you stifle your cries into his shoulder, and he smiles softly. it's times like these where he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, when he brushes the soft hair and tuck it behind your ear in a move of adoration. it's times like these when he thinks that you are so good, so sweet, you'd do anything he say, right?

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[petalsonmoon]

you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

"it's ridiculous." then he leaned his body foward, his fingers meeting his toes. an elongation you would take embarrasingly months to be able to do that flawlessly.

"and really fucking stupid" he proceeds his thoughts.

"oh please, do go on." you look down to your notes and continue to write your ridiculous ideas.

the sun was far too bright and where its glow met the leaves of the large number of trees around you they were gleaming, like they were immensely happy.

"i hope your little notebook accidently burns to ashes."

"kind of you to say accidently."

"yeah no problem at all"

you glance up to find that he has his knee bended to his chest and quickly look back to the pen in your hand. quite misteriously your hands are stained from it.

"you making the walking sleeping bag one too?" his voice is raspy and angry and very clear. how does he sound so good while doing post training stretching?

perhaps you're looking too much into it. your crush makes you a bit giddy, idiotic in a lot of senses. makes you feel a child just like the word itself is infant. crush.

you sigh heavyly.

"still deciding" you draw a little explosion on the corner of the page.

"might as well do it for class b too."

"if i got a penny for every dramatic sentence that came out of your mouth-"

he had his back to you but he insisted on turning his head to you to send you the most chilling glare for exactly 3 seconds. that's his stupidity. his eyes were already too pretty in your eyes for you to feel an ounce of that anger.

"-only today i'd have like," you scrunch your nose "the amount of money equivalent to the ferocity of all might's powers."

he doesn't bother to look at you again and you smile.

"would you look at that. i should look for the person with this quirk."

he growls. loud. and you're smile is genuine.

he sits up straight, his back to you and starts leisurely move his neck. that's the sign he's almost done.

"putting too much money for those idiots.”

"it's not that much" you reason. "don't feel that way for too long, you're getting one too."

with that, it's over.

he turns to you and when those red eyes meet yours the trees are for sure shinning somewhat brighter.

the response for your affirmation it's a furrow between his eyebrows. his skin glowing a bit but that's not your absurd heart speaking, it's just his sweat.

"uhum" now you're messing with the grass. it estabilizes you. "yours is actually the only one that i drew and painted myself. the other ones i made with suna from the support course"

an ant crawled into your point finger.

"but don't tell them that." you whisper.

the ant made it to your pulse when you feel a literal body falling on top of you.

"you motherfucker! you are drenched-"

"that shitty little brain of yours-" his face on your neck. his words and breathing warming your whole body. you are exploding on the inside. how ironic.

"-and your stupid handmade keychains for the whole class" and then he lighly bites where your neck meets your shoulder.

his hands trails your arms, his fingers are burning pathways in your skin until they meet your hands and they interlock with your fingers. then he finally lifts his head and looks at you and what you're feeling is something words can't understand.

"i was gonna wait until graduation."

"tomorrow, you mean."

he bites your chin and you're so fucking certain you'll melt any second now. "because of that fucking tone i'm going to burn all of your little gifts."

you smile at him trying to match his damn audacity. his charm? his mind blowing handsomeness? "i'll murder you."

you blink and feel his breath on your neck again. "do it now, cupcake." then. his maddening warm and soft lips leaves a kiss under your earlobe. you close your eyes. "you have the power to."

"don't wait until tomorrow."

he lifts his head again and there's a smirk with a softness in the corner of it on his face. "or?"

"i might die." you whisper. it is serious to you. you need his lips on yours this very second. with his eyes on yours, telling you every adoration you thought about him for the last couple of months before going to bed, you think might. actually. die.

"who's the dramatic one now, brat?"

[nova-amor]

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ◞

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 [𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠], 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 & 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 [𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

red oak wood digs into your abdomen as you lay flat across the surface of your desk. a rough hand digs into your scalp, forcing your heated cheek against the cool surface as the clattering sound of an undoing belt fills the silent void. there’s a heavy weight of tension lingering in the classroom’s air— the sounds of your blood rushing filling your ears, your muscles tensed and body tingling in anticipation.

your pleated midi skirt is bundled up to your waist, white blouse unbuttoned and bra disgarded from the copious kisses and fondling toji had done before bending you over your desk. pens and papers were casted aside, littering the classroom floor— a mess you definitely didn’t mind cleaning up after. this hadn’t been the first time you had fucked a student’s dad and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“look at you,” toji cooes into your ear from behind, his voice dropping an octave— thick, gravely, and lust-ridden. the accompanying metallic hiss of an undoing zipper makes your cunt throb with want, your body needy and begging to be filled. “dirty slut, yer fuckin’ pussy’s droolin everywhere, makin’ such a mess and we haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“please, mr. fushiguro,” you’re desperate. your hips bucking at the sensation of his cock’s head poking at your wet folds, smearing your arousal around with each glide and slide between. “don’t tease me— need ya so bad, please.”

toji tsks, rolling his eyes as his cock catches the hood of your clit. “i’ll do whatever the hell i want,” a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, flesh stinging from the blow, your body attempting to jolt forward to evade another hit. “and what i want is for you to beg; beg me to fuck you, sweetness, c’mon.”

another smack echoes through the room, a whimper slipping from your lips from how hard he was spanking you. you want to melt into a puddle, knees growing weaker as the tip of his cock pushes into your sopping cunt. your walls clench hard around the cock’s head, clinging desperately to the single inch he was providing you with.

“mr.fushiguro, please,” you sound so pathetic, so weak— your voice high-pitched and needy. without even looking behind you, you knew that a shit-eating smirk had formed on toji’s pink lips, his ego inflating at the sound of your begging. “please, need your cock so bad— need t’ be stuffed with your cock— just wanna be your little cocksleeve, want you to fuck me like i’mma fleshlight— pleasepleaseplease—”

“good girl,” toji hums in delight, releasing his grip on the back of your head to hold your hips in place. “sounds so pretty when ya beg. whatever you want, baby, i’ll give t’ ya.”

his cock slides deep into you— your tight walls straining to stretch around his thick girth, your eyes crossing and mind melting into mush from how full you are. he doesn’t waste a second to start rutting into you, his thrusts short and fast— balls bouncing against your clit and the ridges of his cock dragging against your gummy walls. you can’t restrain the moans that bubble in your throat, the sounds of skin slapping against one another and your combined moans and groans filling the classroom.

“fuck— pussy’s too fuckin’ good, moanin’ like a whore f’me, baby.” toji grunts, nails digging deep into your hips. “that’s what you are, right? a dirty whore who likes fuckin’ her students’ dads? good for nothing but screwing half of the pta?”

you’re a blubbering mess, tongue-tied and mind too far gone to string words along. drool seeps from the corner of your mouth, brows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. a hand snakes its way around your throat, lifting your head up and arching your back deeper, forcing you to make eye contact with the man behind you.

“i asked you a fuckin’ question: you like being a slutty little teacher?” there’s a hint of possession in his voice. his green eyes boring into your’s, eyes narrowing as he grips your neck a bit tighter. “like it when your students’ daddy’s use you?”

“yesyesyes— love bein’ a slut, love bein’ used, f-fucckkk,” you blabber, the flat of your palms pressing against your desk to support yourself. the angle allows toji’s cock to perfectly bully your g-spot, your vision growing blurry as the familiar tight knot forms at the pit of your stomach. you’re so close, it’s almost pain. “that’s what i’m here for, t’ be the school’s slutty teacher— fucckk, toji— you feel so fuckin’ good...”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he taunts, his other hand finding the back of your knee, forcing it to prop up on the desk. the angle is deeper, his thrusts getting faster. “can feel you’re about t’ cum, slutty pussy’s clench around me like a damn vice.”

“make me cum, please— wanna cum all over yer cock, wanna cream all over yer big cock— pleaseee—” your begging makes toji chuckle, his cock jackhammering into your g-spot.

“fuck, if i had known you were this much of a slut, i would’ve fucked you so much earlier,” he taunts, leaning in closer to you. “cum for me. be a filthy little cockwhore and cum on my cock.”

your orgasm hits you like a freight train, toji laughing at the sight of tears spilling down your cheeks as your cries fill the classroom. you’re so thankful there’s no one else around to hear your screaming, the rest of the school’s staff having left hours ago. your cries and expression earn a condescending “thatagirl” from toji, your cunt throbbing around him so hard that he struggles to keep his cock buried deep inside you.

toji then turns you around, manhandling you to lay your back flat down on the desk, his hands cupping the underside of your thighs. he squishes your legs up to your chest, knees tucked and pussy spread wide open— glistening with the thick slick of your arousal under the fluorescent lights of the classroom. the cool air makes your clit twitch, your throat dried out from your previous wails of pleasure.

“stick that tongue out, pretty girl,” toji forces you into a mating press, leaning over you completely and blocking the light above. you obediently stick your tongue out, a fat glob of spit landing on your tongue as he slides his cock back into you. “atta girl, such a perfect little thing.” he says as you gulp down his spit.

he ruts deep into you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. your tongue glides against his, allowing him to explore every crevice and space of your mouth as he pounds into you. you breathe through your nose, both of you unable to pull away from one another as he rearranges your insides to his liking.

“love this fuckin’ pussy— g’na stuff ya full of my cum, want ya barely able t’ walk out of here with my cum drippin’ down your thighs.” he murmurs inbetween the kiss, his teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging hard before letting go. you moan at the pain, your walls clenching hard again around him. he pulls away just enough to let you lick at his scar, the tip of your tongue gliding against the smooth skin.

“you’re my girl now, sweetness.” he cements the title into both your mind and your pussy, imprinting every vein and curve of his cock into the walls of your cunt. “only i can use this slutty little pussy from now on, got that?”

“holy shit— yess yesss,” you nod your head pathetically, your head bobbing along in complete agreement. your body bounces across the surface of your desk, barely able to keep up with the brutality of toji’s hips snapping into you. “all yer’s— no one else’s— fuucckk— i promise,”

“please fill me up, toji— pump me full with yer cum— please need it so bad—” with your pleads, toji only fucks you faster. his thrusts growing sloppier, his cock twitching and pulsating against the tight walls of your sloppy cunt.

with a sharp hiss, toji buries his cock deep inside of you— spilling his seed up against your cervix and his hips stutter from the intensity of his release. his grip on the back of your knees tighten momentarily, your cunt milking him and draining his balls for every drop of cum.

“fuck,” you giggle, a delirious smile tugging at your lips as toji retracts his cock from inside of you. his cum spills out, dense semi-translucent droplets staining your desk, your puffy folds, and inner thighs. “that was amazing.”

toji presses a sloppy kiss to your damp forehead, dropping your knees before gathering himself up to stuff his cock back into the restraints of his underwear and his pants. his vibrant eyes glimmer with a combination of possession and amusement, watching attentively as you clean yourself up with a few kleenex tissues before readjusting your outfit. he helps you to pick up the items littering the floor that he had knocked off your desk, giving you a proper moment to breathe and relax since the bones in your legs had turned to gelatin.

“what were we talking before?” you try to recall as you glance over the notes you had made to discuss with toji. the whole purpose of his visit was to discuss something related to his son, megumi, but you hadn’t the faintest clue where you had left off before getting derailed.

“his grades,” toji cups your cheek, his large hand engulfing the entirety of the side of your face. his thumb runs across your bottom lip, his finger tip dipping into your mouth. you suckle lightly, his eyes darkening once again as your tongue swirls around his thick finger, eagerly welcoming it. “somethin’ about his grades.”

[candylix]

blow my mind | bang chan

Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • You have a test today and you haven't studied at all, but you're not worried. Why? Because you have the ability to read minds, and you'll be sitting next to the smartest guy in class. Unfortunately, his thoughts have strayed from the test and into very dirty territory. Genre • college au, smut, fluff WC • 1.7k Content • no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: hand holding 🥰, public sex, fingering, dry humping, unprotected piv penetration, orgasm denial. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.

Ethically, reading minds is a very dubious subject. As far as you know, you're the only person in the world with supernatural abilities. No one would ever know you're reading their mind, but you have high enough standards for yourself to only use your mind reading capabilities in emergencies.

This was an emergency.

You have a test today, and didn't study. But, you do have a plan. You are going to sit beside one of your classmates and cheat.

You walk into the lecture hall, and scan the room. The class is arranged with tier seating and long tables, and as you work your eyes around the room, you spot him at the very top. You've had a few projects with Chan before, so you know how intelligent he is. You've talked a lot more over the course of the semester, so it wouldn't be weird to sit beside him.

"Ready for the test?" you ask, approaching the table he's sitting at.

He looks up at you and smiles.

"I hope so, I've been cramming all night for this. You?"

"Nope." You grin and give him a thumbs up, pulling out the chair next to him and taking a seat.

"Glad to see you're confident," he laughs.

The rest of the class trudges in, and the test begins.

First thing you write is your name. Easy enough.

You concentrate on Chan, and peer into his mind. He's reading the first question, and after a few minutes of words formulating in his brain, he writes down an answer. You always found it interesting to see how different people think, and Chan's thoughts are muddied as he tries to answer the questions. But when he figures out an answer, everything comes into total focus.

You rewrite his answers on your paper, making sure to use different words. As much as you dislike doing it, this isn't your first time cheating on a test like this, so you know how to not get caught.

A particularly tricky question is next, and you can see his thoughts wander from the test, to the class, to... you. You see yourself in his imagination.

He's daydreaming. This is not good, you need him to focus on the test.

You think about tuning into someone else's mind, but you're captured by what he imagines.

He reaches out his hand, gently placing it over yours. He squeezes it lightly.

You have to look at your hand to make sure it wasn't real. His imagination is extremely vivid. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, which turns out to be Chan shaking his head. Just like that, the image disappears and he's back to thinking about the question.

What was that?

You don't have time to ponder what that could mean when he starts writing down his answer, and you have to quickly catch up to him before he stops thinking about it.

The next question also seems to be giving him trouble, because he stops to think about it for a long time. Eventually, he drifts off into another daydream. He imagines the classroom again, and himself scooting his chair next to you. The version of you in his imagination rests your head on his shoulder. It's very cute, all things considered.

Then it dawns on you. He has a crush on you.

Well isn't that just adorable. It would be cuter if he would just get back to the test before you both fail.

He turns his head to look at you, resting peacefully on his shoulder. He smiles and leans in to kiss you.

Your fingers instinctively brush your lips. It's not rare for people to have vivid sensory imaginations, but you almost never get a tactile experience from your power. He must be imagining the feeling of touching you, enough that you feel it through him.

If only he had Aphantasia, and not the worlds strongest imagination. You don't think either of you will be passing this test.

He moves his hand from on top of yours to caressing your thigh. Then, it moves closer to the waistband of your pants-

You cough loudly, breaking his focus. The image disappears in an instant. You see the muddied words coming back, and he's finally thinking about the test again.

You can feel heat rising to your cheeks. Was he imagining what you think he was imagining?

He has been stuck on this question for a while, so you probably wont find anyone else in class who's still working on it. And even if you could, you'd have to check the minds of the entire class. You're stuck peeping in Chan's mind if you want to possibly pass the test.

It's feels a bit strange to be the subject of Chan's romantic fantasies, but not in a bad way. He's handsome, kind, smart, funny in an awkward kind of way that you've always found charming...

You've never thought about him that way before. But knowing how he feels, you'll definitely be thinking about him now.

You realize you're starting to drift off the same way Chan was, and go back to concentrating on your cheating scheme.

Luckily, he's focused on the right subject now, and he flies through the answers. He's almost too fast, and you have to leave some answers half done in order to keep pace. Hopefully you'll still get half a mark for those ones.

You're on the last question now. He takes some time to read and reread the question, and when he starts to think of an answer, he goes back and reads the question one more time. You're worried, the tricky questions are when he starts to nod off.

He rests his head on his hand and his mind wanders back to his imagination. At this point, you think you should just try to answer the question yourself, but your mind freezes when he continues where he left off.

His hand moves up your thigh, and between your legs. He rubs you over the fabric of your pants, but the friction is enough to feel your core start to pulse. You start moaning involuntarily, and Chan smirks to himself. 'Quiet, we're still in class' he whispers. He pretends to keep writing with one hand, while the other slips into your pants. You're not wearing underwear, so he can easily move his fingers to circle your clit. You cover your mouth with your fist to stifle a moan. The pace is slow, but you're able to pretend to be working while he works his fingers. You find yourself mindlessly rocking into him. He increases his speed, and you feel your orgasm building while you try to suppress another moan. Your head leans back as you buck into his hand, and you feel yourself about to- Suddenly, his fingers stop. Your core is still throbbing, but he takes his hand out of your pants. You look at him pleadingly, and he pats his lap for you to sit on. You look around the classroom. Everyone is too focused on their tests to notice you getting up. You stand to straddle him, and before you can sit down, he unbuttons your pants and pulls them down. If anyone turned around to look, they would see him groping your ass. He guides you down to sit on his lap, and you feel his bulge prodding against your folds. "Finish yourself on me," he whispers. You try to turn your head to see if anyone's watching, but he stops you. "Just look at me. Don't worry about anyone else." Nervously, you rub yourself on his bulge, and even under the fabric you can feel how hard he is. When you feel your orgasm building up again, you forget about the possibility of anyone seeing and hump him harder. His clothed dick against your bare cunt clouds your mind, and you try to get as much friction against him as you can. You buck into him faster, and you feel him getting harder as he starts to rock against you. You feel yourself about to cum again, but he lifts you up onto the desk and lays you on your back. "Chan, please," you whine. You can't take this anymore, and you rub your legs together to feel any sort of release. He pulls your legs apart, opening your soaking wet pussy to the world. Before you can even complain, his pants are down, and his massive cock is throbbing against your entrance. He easily slides himself into you, and you feel him moving up your walls. He fills you up completely, staying there for a moment before pulling out and slamming himself right back in. He rams into you, hitting your sweet spot. His hand is back on your clit, rubbing circles while he continues his ruthless pace with his cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. He slams into you faster and faster as he chases his own high, losing control as his body acts on instinct. You're almost at your limit, and you feel your orgasm about to peak-

"Time's up everyone! Turn in your tests," the professor announces to the class.

You feel your core pulsing as you snap back to reality. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, and you realize none of that was real, despite it being incredibly vivid. Somehow, you lost yourself in his fantasy.

You look over to Chan, and notice his erection as he quickly writes something down for the last question. You look back to your own test, and see the empty space where you should've wrote your answer. You have no idea what to write. You don't even remember what the question was.

All you remember was Chan pounding into you at a brutal pace.

You look back to Chan as he stands, and when he makes eye contact, his cheeks turn red and he looks away. He hurriedly stuffs all his things into his bag and speed walks down the steps.

If you want to pass this class, you can never sit next to him again. You definitely should never read his mind again.

However... you do want to know what else he's thinking about when you're near him.

And you really want to know what he's like outside of his imagination.

EPILOGUE:

Two weeks later, your test scores are posted to the schools website. You click on the link to see how you did. As it loads in, you wait with baited breath.

You failed the test.

A/N: I hope someone went to look up what Aphantasia was, and suddenly everything made sense in their life when they realized they have it. And they have to live their life knowing that an incredibly important part of their worldview and way of thinking was discovered by reading a kpop x reader smut fic.

read part two here!

[roanniom]

i can’t stop thinking about virgin! eddie being so embarrassed about coming after like 3 seconds and he keeps apologizing and says he wants to make up for it😩😩

Okay for You

Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV / unprotected sex, uncertainty but it resolves

“Jesus fucking Christ, holy mother of fucking god,” he’s stuttering as you lower yourself down on him. His fingertips dig into the meat of your hips so hard you can most certainly count on bruises tomorrow. He’s a lot to take but it feels good as you sink down, giving him a wincing grin.

“Didn’t know the town satan worshiper was so religious,” you tease, lightly sliding the tip of your index finger up and down the naked expanse of his chest in the shape of a cross. “Do you wanna be absolved of sin or do you wanna cum?

“Fuck, you can’t just–,” Eddie bucks up into you harshly and you laugh. Your laugh gets brighter when you notice the furrow in his brow and the desperation in his eyes.

“Choose sin, Eddie. I know you wanna cum.”

“Quit talking about cumming, I’m gonna fucking bust,” he whines out. You roll your hips, once, twice.

“Cum on the dark side, Eddie. We’ve got pussy.”

You’re straight up giggling at your own absurdity and at how far gone he is in under a minutes. His eyes roll back in his head and his mouth drops open in a heady groan, hips stuttering upwards as he spills deep inside you. You ground your hands on his shoulders and bear down on him so that he feels fully encased and snug through his orgasm.

Eddie, it turns out, is fucking beautiful when he cums. Pink tinges the high points of his cheeks, getting darker around his ears and flushing crimson down his neck to his chest. His wet lips are open as he gasps down air, eyelids shut tight against the intensity of his release.

It takes him a minute, but the second he realizes what’s happened, his hands are off your thighs and covering his face in mortification.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“That good, handsome?” you ask smugly, not quite noticing the tonal shift yet.

“No its…well yeah but I didn’t…that was too…fuck I’m so sorry.” When he finishes rambling he sits up and pulls his hands from his face, revealing an almost teary eyed expression. Your eyebrows shoot up in response.

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” you ask, suddenly a lot softer, your hand curling around his forearm to pull him so he stops biting at a nail.

“I just blew my load in 0.5 seconds like a fucking virgin.”

You stare at him for a second before breaking out into hysterical giggles. He looks affronted at first, but as you keep laugh the corner of his mouth quirks a little.

“What?”

“Eddie, you are a virgin,” you clarify, though you immediately amend it. “Were a virgin. I kinda expected it, to be honest.”

Eddie huffs a laugh but sits a bit straighter. He’s still inside you, growing soft, but you like the closeness so you don’t get up just get.

“What? You didn’t think I’d be a mind blowing lover?” he asks and your glad he’s back to making jokes. You shrug.

“You’ve got a big dick, so you’re not that far off to begin with. If we work on your stamina you could be blowing my back out in no time.”

You watch him short circuit as he stares at you and you definitely don’t miss the way his dick twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” he asks. It’s hesitant. You lean forward and give him a kiss that answers all his questions - bruising and wet and probing and dirty - and his lips chase yours when you pull away.

“You’ll be Fabio in no time,” you promise with a cheeky smile.

“I wanna make you cum,” Eddie replies earnestly. His hands are back on your thighs, smoothing up and down. “I’m so fucking pissed I didn’t make you cum. ‘M sorry.”

“Eddie, don’t be sorry,” you reassure him. You go to kiss him again and he melts, mewling desperately and leaning into the affection. It turns you on so much that this scary, beautiful man is putty beneath you. So much so that you feel yourself growing needy and snake a hand down between you to start playing with your clit.

The friction causes you to squeeze around his rapidly re-hardening cock. He jolts at the feeling.

“What’re you…?” he breaks away to ask you, eyes trailing down to your ministrations. “Oh fuck are you…are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm. You’re making me feel good, Eds. I kinda have to,” you confirm with a chuckle. He watches you for a moment before he slides his hand down your abdomen tentatively.

“Can…can I do it?”

You’re panting a bit at this point. Worked up again from the lack of satisfaction the first time around.

“You wanna?” you ask, kind of hoping he’ll say no so you can get yourself off before he cums prematurely again. You can feel his hips beginning to cant lightly, teasing you with the pressure.

“Please,” he practically whispers and you can deny him so you pull you hand away. What you aren’t expecting is for him to grab it and wrap his lips around your wet fingers. Your eyes blow wide and your pussy clenches around his cock, making him groan around his mouthful.

“Eddie…” you say quietly. He blinks at you before pulling your fingers from his mouth with a pop and reaching down to press his own circles into your clit.

It’s juuuuust off. Another millimeter and you’ll feel great. You roll your hips to try and get him where you need him, but unfortunately the slide of his cock inside of you distracts him, making him freeze up and moan. So you take matters into your own hands, literally, grabbing his wrist and pulling at him so that he’s on the right spot.

“Yeah? Right there?”

He’s seeking genuine reassurance, but your brain hears the questions as dirty talk, making you roll your hips again.

“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah right there.”

You begin grinding on him in earnest while he continues to play with you. After a few moments you grab his free hand to bring it from your hip to grope your breast. His eyes practically bug out of his head.

“Oh wow,” Eddie says.

You want to laugh at how easy he is. But it’s starting to feel really good, and you’re so pent up at this point you decide just to chase it.

“Say something,” you breathe out. Eddie looks confused.

“Like…like what?”

“Just - fuck. I don’t know. Talk dirty.” You’re doing your best not to ride him fully, because you can see the way all of his muscles are starting to tense. You hope that by giving him a task it’ll distract him long enough so you can cum.

“Uh you’re…you’re just like…so fucking beautiful—,”

“Eds,” you let out a frustrated chuckle. “That’s not dirty talk—.”

“So f-fucking beautiful on my cock,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “Want you to cum. You’re so wet, bet you need it so bad.”

Well shit.

Recently de-virgin-ed Eddie had found your weakness and it’s condescension. Your pussy squeezes him and you let out a moan that has him grinning through a hiss.

“You need it, huh? Just desperate to cum, huh baby?”

Baby is a new pet name and you love it. You nod and his finger picks up it’s pace on your clit, his other hand following your earlier lead by playing with and tugging at your nipples.

“Need it, Eds.”

“Oh I need it, too, baby. Shoulda happened the first time, but I need you to feel good now, ok?” There’s a sincerity behind the lightest layer of teasing. He can’t really tease fully. Not when he’s on the brink of cumming again as it is.

But the laser focused eye contact he’s locked you in is doing plenty for you.

“Ok.”

“Ok,” Eddie repeats in a hum. His free hand goes to the back of your neck and pulls you down to him so he can grace you with a wet, sucking kiss. He bites your plush lower lip and lets his free hand tighten in your hair.

“Oh god, Eddie,” you whimper against his lips.

“Fuuuuck, I’ve been waiting to hear you like this,” Eddie groans.

You’re basically just cock warming him at this point with a little humping mixed in. But you’re really impatient at this point, so the constant roll of your hips is taking you further than it usually would.

Eddie’s free hand slides from your hair down your back to grab a a handful of your ass. He guides your gyrating hips up and down your cock just that much more and now you’re panting.

“Eddie,” you whine. “I’m close.”

“Holy shit. Seriously?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows shooting up. Clearly shocked.

“Yeah, handsome. You’re fucking me so good.”

You both know it’s an exaggeration. But you’re impatient to cum at this point and eager to praise the beautiful man beneath you. He preens and licks his lips.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck you so good, baby. Wanna make you feel so good. Please, just let me baby. Wanna…oh fuck…please.” He’s rambling at this point and you know he’s close. You bring your hands to either side of his face, framing his jaw.

“Look at me, handsome,” you breathe. You’re so close at this point. His hazy eyes find yours.

“Baby…” he says, eyelids fluttering. He looks just so absolutely destroyed - that’s what ultimately gets you. That this man is losing his damn mind over you but holding out as long as he can so you feel pleasure.

That pleasure washes over you in that moment, along with a cry of Eddie’s name. You collapse over him and cling to him as your pussy spasms around his aching cock. It blows Eddie’s ever loving mind to feel your body reacting to him so strongly. His last bit of resolve snaps like a fucking twig and suddenly he’s clutching you to him and fucking up into you.

“Baby-oh fuck. Baby, yes. God.” He’s gasping and panting and then his hips are stuttering. He goes still, cumming inside you for the second time tonight.

You’re so full. Two loads of cum and his already oversized cock. But even better is how he holds you. Big arms surround you and keep you grounded against his body, even as twitching aftershocks rock him.

It’s a few moments before you’re properly able to do anything other than relish in the feeling of his overwhelming presence. It’s the persistent ache in your muscles that spurs you into action.

“Eddie…I’ve gotta move…”

“Oh fuck, sorry!” He’s quick to release you, letting you peel yourself from his sweaty skin and gingerly climb off of him. Before you can move any further he jumps up. “Wait let me just…”

He’s back in a moment with a wash cloth - warm, you notice in the back of your hazy mind. He lightly cleans you up, missing the heart eyes you direct his way from the sheer gentleness of his movements.

Eddie is so caring. So sweet and bumbling and eager and awkward and you can’t help but beam back at him when he sends a smile your way. He settles back on the bed with you hesitantly.

“Was that…was that okay for you?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that,” you counter, slapping at his arm. He’s having none of it, though, instead grabbing you and pulling you into his arms.

“Well I fucking came twice so I don’t think it’s really a question, baby.”

“Hmmm I like when you call me baby,” you coo. You’re a boneless mass of gooey feelings now, encased in Eddie’s arms. The skin around his eyes crinkles and his dimples deepen.

“Oh yeah? You like being my baby?” You don’t miss the way his flush gets deeper but you relish in the newfound confidence in his voice.

“I love being your baby, Eds.”

~*~

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——

Thank you for reading! Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think

[alittlebitofsainz]

- he kissed me right in front of my friends -

prompt: “i threw a party, he kissed me right in front of my friends, i felt so far from the cliffs.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: if you could have one birthday wish granted, it would be that you no longer had to hide your relationship.

a/n: lyrics from track #89 there it goes by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, happy birthday baby!”

you couldn’t help but let your lips curve into a soft smile as lando pressed a kiss to your cheek, holding out a bag full of presents as he stepped inside your apartment. you accepted it graciously, eyes wide at the sheer number of gifts.

“lan, you really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.” he cut you off with a shake of his head, “for my special girl.”

he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, but you quickly batted him away.

“careful, lan, people might see!” you giggled, looking up at him like he’d lost his mind. it had been eight months of keeping your relationship under wraps, and while you both understood why it had to be that way, it still didn’t make it easy. it was moments like these where you yearned for a normal relationship, one where your partner wasn’t in the spotlight, one where he could give you a kiss on your birthday and it wouldn’t be plastered all over social media the next day. but it was worth it, you thought as you looked up at lando’s face, eagerly waiting for you to open your presents. it was worth it to call him yours, even if it was only in secret.

yeah, it was worth it, you thought, as you watched lando laughing uncontrollably at something max had said, the two of them stationed behind the dj booth you’d hired for the party. in general, lando didn’t go much on drinking, and he’d sworn off djing for the most part, but he was willing to make exceptions for your special day, and you smiled to see him enjoying himself. your best friend followed your gaze, noticing you phasing out of the group conversation you were in, and nudged you.

“you’re staring, y/n. you totally fancy him.” she teased, and for a moment you almost slipped up, you almost replied with yeah, I really do. but you caught yourself, instead laughing it off with a sharp shake of your head, elbowing her right back.

“knock it off, we’re just mates.” you protested, but your friend arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips in a way that suggested that she didn’t quite believe you. she opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, the lights shut off and the music cut out. you instinctively glanced over back towards the dj booth, eyes searching for lando, confused to find him gone. but the confusion only lasted for a moment as a glow of light emerged from the kitchen; twenty lit candles pressed into a cake, held up by lando as he brought it across the room towards you, all your friends joining in and singing happy birthday to you. you grinned, feeling tears prick your eyes. god, you’d never been happier. there was only one thing that could’ve made this day more incredible, and you sighed to yourself as you watched lando bring the cake closer, lowering it slightly so you could blow out the candles. his eyes locked on yours for just a moment, and you swore you felt your heart stop.

“make a wish.” he murmured.

you blew out the candles, earning a cheer and a few hip hip hoorays from your friends gathered around you. lando set the cake down on the table, another friend stepping in to help cut and distribute it to guests, allowing you just a moment to talk whilst everyone was distracted.

“what did you wish for?” he asked, voice low, making you lean in to be able to hear him above the music which had started up again. you arched an eyebrow.

“if I tell you, it won’t come true.” you retorted, the corner of your lips curving up into a wry smile. it always gave you butterflies, flirting with lando in public. something about it made you feel like you were still in that stage where anything could happen, like you were just starting to get to know him all over again. his expression changed slightly as he reached into his back pocket.

“now don’t yell at me, but I got you one last present.”

“lando!” you protested; you’d already admonished him earlier after you’d opened all your gifts from him. you could tell he’d spent a lot of money, more than you believed you deserved, on anything you’d ever mentioned wanting. shoes, a nice handbag, a designer coat, expensive earrings. but it wasn’t just material things, he’d got tickets to than gig you mentioned you wanted to go to, taken out an annual membership for the gardens you always liked going to for some peace and quiet, donated money to the shelter your parents adopted the family dog from. it was far too much, yet lando insisted it wasn’t enough to show you how much he loved you.

“I said don’t yell at me!” he replied playfully, producing a small wrapped item and holding it out to you, “it’s not an expensive one. it’s just… well, just open it and see.”

you peeled off the wrapping paper with gentle fingers, the package feeling so delicate in your hands compared to all the other larger gifts he’d showered you with. it revealed a gold necklace, with a single ‘L’ hanging from the chain. you looked at it, awestruck, running a finger over the gold letter.

“lan, this is beautiful.” you murmured softly.

“to remind you how much I love you, even if I can’t always show it.” he explained softly, and you felt a lump form in your throat. it was so bittersweet, you thought, as he took the necklace from your hands and instructed you to turn around so he could fasten it round your neck. the necklace was like some sort of twisted metaphor for your relationship, always there but often hidden. you turned back to face him, glancing down to admire the jewellery for a moment. if people saw this, it wouldn’t take them long to join the dots, to make the connection, especially if you were next to lando. you sighed, reaching to take the ‘L’ between your fingers and tuck it under your top, to hide it away. but lando’s hand was on yours in an instant, holding it in place, his fingers clasped round yours, clasped round the golden letter. you looked up in surprise.

“don’t hide it.” he said softly, “fuck it. I want people to see it. I want them to know.”

the confidence with which he had said it startled you, but in the best way. you barely had time to process the words before his hand had snaked around your waist, pulling you to him, his lips on yours in an instant. it wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a kiss that let everyone know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were his, and he was yours.

you pulled away for a moment, eyes on him, but in your peripheral vision you clocked a few of your friends watching the two of you, mouths open, slices of cake forgotten about. your best friend had a smug grin on her face, one that said that she knew all along. you saw max begrudgingly slip pietra a ten pound note. lando saw it too, and laughed. and then you laughed. and then you kissed him again.

“happy birthday.” he murmured, resting his forehead on yours.

“I got my birthday wish.” you murmured in reply.

a/n: and thus concludes the little ‘just friends’ mixtape! check out the previous tracks below:

told her you were just a friend | just don’t want your friend to see

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens x Shy!Reader giving each other a good luck kiss before a tornado chase🩵🌪️

Spotlight - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

You're relieved that Tyler won't be gone for days, crossing state lines to chase this twister, but that comes with a downside: it's local. That means that, though the tornado's path isn't projected near your home, you're still on high-alert as anxiety convinces you that something will change and your house will be torn down plank by plank and blown away into oblivion.

"I'll be back for dinner," Tyler vows, grinning at you with the thrill of the chase already gleaming in his eyes and smile, "You just sit pretty 'til I'm back, darlin', and we can go out tonight. Get somethin' real nice, then we can go dancin' afterwards. In our own little corner, I promise." He tugs you close, miming how things will go only hours from now, knowing your tendency to be shy in large crowds.

The roaring of tires on gravel lets you know that Tyler's crew has arrived, and you've mostly conquered your nerves surrounding them. They're lovely people, if only a little intense, but you still feel sometimes like a complete outsider. Still, you wave sweetly to them, and a chorus of greetings floats your way over the open Arkansas air.

"Alright," Tyler pats once, twice against your hip, "That's my cue. If I don't get goin' soon, Boone's gonna start throwing shit at me."

"I'll protect you," You shrug, drinking in the last of his embrace- logically, the last of it for only a few hours. Irrationally- the last of it you might ever get. You shake away a shuddery feeling in your chest as Tyler laughs at your joke, squeezing you tighter around the waist.

"That's right, you're my little protector, aren't you? 'Gonna get those big ol' muscles out and show 'em all who's boss?"

Flexing your biceps does absolutely nothing to show them off like it does when Tyler does it, and you can feel the fondness in his ear-to-ear grin.

"Alright, darlin'." He lets go of your waist and suddenly the handprints on your sides are cold, terribly so, as a mild wind blows through your front yard, "Stay safe in here, m'kay? The storm's projected to go east but you know the drill; keep weather alerts on and hole up in the cellar if anything changes. Love you," He squeezes your hand in lieu of a kiss, something you're decidedly uncomfortable with in public, but when he turns to walk away, you act on impulse and grab his wrist.

"Ty-" You gasp, almost as shocked at your actions as he is when he turns to raise a questioning brow at you.

"Hm?"

"Uh- I," You stammer, his eyes like spotlights showcasing your awkward stance before you realize that words are failing, and the only thing you can do is kiss him.

You surge forwards, tugging him along to meet you in the middle as you lean up to press your lips to his. He's surprised if the way that his eyes go wide is any indication, and you feel like you're stealing his breath when his chest tightens up. It takes him barely a second to melt into it, but it's a second that feels like an eternity as your brain and heart race in tandem.

There's cheering, whooping, shouting, and a slew of other reactions from his crew that you'll lay awake embarrassed about later tonight, but for now you kiss Tyler Owens like it's the last time you'll see him- because it might be.

The words, 'Good luck,' are whispered softly against his lips when you part from them, and his eyes are hazy before he blinks away the cloudy daze he's trapped in. He stares down at you, equal parts bewildered and head-over-heels, and his grin is less cocky, more sappy now as he watches you.

"That was one hell of a kiss," He remarks, smoothing his tongue between the seam of his lips and catching your chapstick, "I don't even think I wanna go out now. Tornado be damned, the real fun's right here."

"Go," You push against his chest, and your laughter comes easy despite having just stepped so far out of your comfort zone, "Go and be back for dinner and dancing!"

"Yes ma'am!" Tyler calls, walking backwards towards his own truck as his crew splits in half to fill both vehicles equally, "I love you!"

He says it like it's an inside joke, like it's something he's informing you of for the first time instead of something you'd just pressed against his mouth.

You grin back, lazy and sure even amongst the watchful eyes of his crew, "I love you too, Ty."

[marauder-misprint]

Faking it

Sirius Black x fem!reader

3k words

cw: fluff

People were only mildly surprised when you started to date Sirius. He had started flirting with you in Charms. And then in Astronomy and Ancient Runes. Which turned into whenever and wherever he saw you in the castle. You had never thought much of it, knowing full well that Sirius flirted with a lot of girls. It wasn’t until he asked you to accompany him to Hogsmeade that it hit you: He hadn’t been flirting with anyone else for at least a week, only you. Everyone else saw it coming, but you were blindsided.

When the first date went well, you still played it low, not believing that Sirius could commit to one person. With more dates and continued flirting, you two became official. You had been convinced that maybe you could be enough for him. After a month of being official, it was everyone else who was fully surprised. Sirius never stayed with one girl so long. It stroked your pride that of all the girls at Hogwarts, you were the one who got him to stick around for a while. 

For a time, you two were inseparable. Always cozied up to each other before and after classes. Always taking trips to Hogsmeade, just the two of you. Snogging in a corner, away from the prying eye.

You thought everything was fine over the Christmas break. You made time to see each other, you going to the Potters’, where he was staying. Nothing anyone said or did hinted at anything being amiss, except for a single glance shared between SIrius and James a few minutes before midnight on New Year’s Eve. You brushed it off as overthinking what was likely a trick of the light. 

The ride back to Hogwarts was fine. As was the Welcome Back feast. Everything was fine. You weren’t as attached at the hip, but you figured that was healthy, being comfortable in your relationship and being your own people. Yes, that was good and everything was fine. 

Until you heard him flirting with another girl a few weeks into the spring term. Your heart sank and shattered. You watched her twirl her hair and giggle. He gave her his award-winning smile. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He had no negative reaction, no “I have a girlfriend.” The hollow, empty feeling of disbelief sank into your chest as you turned and walked away. You skipped dinner to be in your room. You sobbed.

The next day, you broke up with Sirius at breakfast. You approached him and ripped off the bandaid.

“Sirius, congrats, you’re free to see other girls, like you so apparently want to. We’re over.”

You walk away before more tears can fall. You leave the table of Gryffindors utterly confused. Sirius and James had discussed your relationship over the break, which had resulted in James telling him that it was his first long relationship so he would have adjustments to make if he wanted it to last. Sirius had been under the impression that everything was still going good between you. After you ended it, he just sat at the table, staring at where you had stood and delivered the blow.

“Pads? You okay?” Remus asked.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what he did wrong, where it went wrong. The girl he had worked so hard to get was gone and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t focus at all in class that day.

You, on the other hand, put all of your energy into class and Quidditch. You volunteered to help tutor some first years in Transfiguration. You made yourself busy. You seemed to be everywhere, doing everything. You gave yourself no time to think about Sirius.

During the next Quidditch match, you scored 90% of your house’s points. Even if your seeker hadn’t caught the snitch, you would’ve won. You received top grades on every test and essay you turned in. You were constantly smiling and laughing, always surrounded by your other friends.

While you were a shining beacon, Sirius fell deep into himself, far more quiet and reserved than he had ever been. 

Sirius almost dropped Quidditch. He was finding it hard to drag himself to practice. If he didn’t have James, he probably would have. He couldn’t bring himself to study or do homework so his test grades weren’t as good as they could’ve been, and without Remus, his essays wouldn’t have been handed in. His mind was constantly on you. He didn’t understand and he wanted to. He needed to. 

How did you not miss him like he missed you? How were you able to end it and act like nothing had happened? What had happened?

What he didn’t see was what you didn’t allow anyone else to see: you crying in the shower, crying with your curtains closed and a silencing charm cast on your bed, crying in a secluded corner of the library. You felt so broken inside, but somehow that fueled you to do better, be better. You’d make Sirius regret breaking your heart. You had been the girl to tie down the Sirius Black for six months. And you were the one to end it, in the eyes of everyone. You hadn’t told anyone about the girl you saw him flirting with and it seemed that he didn’t tell anyone either. He was allowing everyone to see you as the girl who tamed Sirius and then left him. 

It’s Remus who approaches you in the library during one of the days when the tears fell on their own accord down your face. You had been studying all day. Your books piled around you and various homework assignments scattered around the table. You were trying to crank out several subjects at once in some sort of roundtable system. Remus sat across from you, not saying anything. It takes you a few minutes to realize someone had joined you. You sniffle as you finally look up at him

“Oh… hey Remus.” Your voice is weak from crying and not speaking for several hours.

“Hey,” he whispers. He wasn’t expecting you to be crying and it threw him off. His original interrogation plan had to be scrapped. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just peachy,” you answer with another sniffle.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“What do you want, Remus?”

He flinches at the expected sharpness in your voice. He fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater.

“Well, I had wanted to talk to you about Sirius.”

You put your quill down with a sigh and look at him. Your eyes are puffy and slightly bloodshot. Your face is patchy with splotches from on-and-off crying. Overall, you look exhausted. 

“What about him?” you ask, your voice firm yet tired.

“What happened?”

You scoff. “I broke up with him because he broke my heart.”

Remus leans forward over the table.

“What did he do?” He sounds so concerned and his face shows just that.

You just sigh. 

“What did Sirius do?” he repeats.

“He was flirting with another girl. And then when she kissed him, he didn’t do anything.”

“When was this?” His brows furrowed over his honey brown eyes. This was obviously new news to him.

“The day before I ended it.” You pause for a moment, debating how much of your thoughts you should share. “I knew it was going downhill. He was getting distant. Tired of me. I just caught him indulging himself in secret so I figured why not free him to do as he wants, since it’s clearly not me anymore.”

Remus leans back and crosses his arms. His contemplative expression has you furrowing your brows. You look at all of your homework spread out around you. You wish it wasn’t so messy so you could quickly clean up and leave Remus and the library. Remus was still figuring out what to say, trying to see how your version of events compared with SIrius’. 

“If you ‘freed’ him as you say, why has he been moping around the common room then?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know and it’s not really any of my business anymore, now is it?”

“I think it is.”

You purse your lips and send Remus a scalding look.

“I’m just saying…” He leans forward again. “Sirius wasn’t, isn’t tired of you.”

“Then who was the girl?”

Remus shrugs as he stands up.

“I’ll see what he knows about that. Talk to him, yeah?” He waits a moment for you to give a response, which you don’t give. “Give the poor sod something. He really is moping.”

After Remus leaves, you slowly put away your things. You didn’t feel like working anymore. Some small part of you was glad to know that Sirius was missing you, that he wasn’t happy to be single. But Remus’ visit felt like salt in the wound for some reason. You could feel the need to sob building in your chest and it wasn’t the kind of crying that you could do in the library. You retreat to your dorm, which is thankfully empty. You sink to the floor as you feel the wave of sadness overwhelm you. 

A hint of crimson under your bed catches your eye and you reach to pull out whatever it is. You wail a sob when you realize it’s Sirius’ sweater, the one he had given you over Christmas break at the Potters’ house. You had goosebumps up and down your arms as you sat next to him on their couch. It didn’t take Sirius long to notice and he disappeared momentarily, only to come back with the sweater. He gave it to you without a word. He just smiled as you pulled it on and brought the sleeves up to sniff it. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t enjoy his smell? You bring the sweater in your hands up to your nose. It’s more faint now, but it still smells like him. The smell brings you back to a different day over break.

•••

You had been laying in his lap in the conservatory, in the sweater and under a blanket. James was elsewhere; you think he said he would be writing to Remus, Peter and others if you needed him, but you knew Sirius had asked for some alone time with you so he was getting out of the way. Sirius was twirling strands of your hair around his fingers as he studied your face.

“What’s on your mind, love?” he had asked, voice soft.  

“Just thinkin’ ‘bout how perfect this feels,” you said. You smiled up at him. “I’d like to bottle how I feel right now so I can feel it when I’m feeling low.”

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. His curls that fell forward tickled your face. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll remind you how it feels.”

“You’re not that part I’m worried about. The coziest. The comfort. The snow!”

Sirius looked up and appeared shocked to see that it had been snowing. He had been so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed. 

“I’ll find a way to make it snow for you on the summer solstice if that’s what you want.”

You smiled wider and shook your head. “There are more simple things you can do to make me smile, you goof.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he teased.

“Kiss me.”

And then he did just that. You had adjusted so he wasn’t at such an odd angle. It was a soft and gentle kiss that was followed by him peppering your face with kisses. As much as you had wanted to, you both knew you couldn’t snog at that moment. The door was cracked open and James or his parents could enter at any moment. 

•••

As you inhale again, you decide that you should talk to Sirius. Maybe, just maybe, you had been too hasty in breaking up with him. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix things. Especially if Remus had been honest in saying he was moping around the common room all day. You wipe your eyes and put on a brave face before heading to dinner. 

---

Remus leans toward Sirius as the dark haired boy glowered at the mashed potatoes on his plate during dinner.

“She’s broken up about it too,” Remus says, his voice low so only Sirius could hear him.

Sirius looks to where you are sitting, animatedly telling a story to your friends.

“Doesn’t appear that way.”

“It’s an act,” Remus says. “Found her crying in the library today.”

Sirius gives him a disbelieving look.

“Yeah? And how do you know it’s about me?”

“I asked,” he answers, rolling his eyes. “She said you broke her heart.”

“What?” Sirius gasped.

Remus nods, shoveling food into his mouth. Sirius watches him, waiting for more information. 

Remus swallowed. “Something about you distancing yourself and then flirting and kissing another girl.”

Sirius shakes his head as he looks down at his plate again. He mutters “no” over and over to himself. He thinks back to when you broke up with him and the days leading up to it.

“It was that ballsy third year!” Sirius exclaims, his head snapping up. “Little bitch was flirting with me, not the other way around! I was trying to let her down easy! Moony!”

“I’m not the one who needs to hear about that.”

They both look in your direction. You had finished whatever story you had been telling and now are watching the boy across from you with a smile on your face. The smile Sirius had grown to love seeing on your face, especially when he was the one who caused it. Remus looks back at Sirius.

“Talk to her. She just thinks you betrayed her trust.”

“What would I even say?”

“The truth, Pads. Tell her the truth.”

---

You wait until the next day to talk to Sirius. However, now that you actually want to find him, you swear he’s nowhere to be found. You check all of his usual spots, each empty. What’s even more frustrating is you’ve found Remus, James and Peter. You don’t talk to them, but why can’t you find Sirius? You want to scream. 

Giving up, you go sit outside the castle. It is too cold to comfortably sit outside for too long being that it wasn’t quite spring yet. You welcome the cold air. It feels nice against the heat of frustration from failing to find Sirius. You start to walk the perimeter of the castle, unsure if you wanted to keep moving or sit on one of the stone benches. After days of crying from sadness, you almost find it comical to want to cry out of frustration. It feels like a completely different kind of emotion and for a moment, you honestly debate screaming. It would be cathartic, but it would draw attention. You could find somewhere less public to scream. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear your name. You turn around to see the very person you had been searching for. He is properly dressed to be spending time outdoors with his thick robes, gloves and scarf. 

“Sirius!” you say. “Can we talk?”

He blinks at you. “I was going to ask the same thing… Oh, you must be freezing, love.”

He walks toward you, unties his scarf and wraps it around your neck. Out of habit, you lift part of it to your nose and inhale deeply. His scent is enough to warm you from the chill, not even considering his gesture or his residual warmth on the fabric. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” you say after a moment. He was looking at you with a softness in his eyes that you didn’t see often. “I shouldn’t have ended things so abruptly.”

You cock your head to the side as he chuckles at that. 

“If what Remus told me is true, you had reason to be pissed. But I wish you would’ve talked to me first.” He gives you a sympathetic smile that confuses you. “I would have explained.”

“What explanation do you have for flirting with someone?” you ask, words coming out choked. After wanting to talk to him so badly, you didn’t think getting the words out would be so difficult.

“Let’s sit, yeah?” he says, taking your hand and leading you to one of the stone benches against the castle. “I wasn’t the one flirting. Some third year came up to me and started chatting me up.”

“But I heard you?” 

“You heard me being polite, trying to let her down easy. I was honestly so… so… baffled? Godsmacked? Confused. Floored. When she kissed me. I couldn’t react right away. And am I right to assume that’s all you saw?”

You nod, considering what he was saying and the truth to it.

He nods as well. “Then you didn’t hear her saying that she shouldn’t go around kissing guys with girlfriends whom they love very much.”

Your eyes go wide.

“You… love me?” you breathe.

He gives your hands a squeeze. You look down at them, having not realized that he was still holding them, and then you look back at Sirius. He’s already looking at you with kindness in his grey eyes. 

“I do. I love you so much.” He pauses for a moment. “This isn’t the circumstances I had planned on telling you… Was hoping for something a bit more romantic.”

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“If you love me so much, would you consider taking me back?” you ask softly. You hope you sound as hopeful as you are. 

“If you promise to talk to me, hell, argue with me, when something’s wrong.”

You nod with a smile. “Yes. I would rather argue with you for days than relive the pain I put us through.”

“Put us through? You seemed pretty happy without me…”

You put a hand on Sirius’ cheek.

“Darling, I was faking it. There are a lot of places in the castle to cry in private.”

“Well, then, here’s to not being miserable anymore?” he asks.

“Here’s to trusting each other and loving each other,” you say before gently placing a kiss on his cheek. 

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

PASSIONATE DINNER

Summary: Wade and Vanessa are celebrating their anniversary and invited you and Logan to dinner. However, he couldn't help himself when he saw you in that fancy dress.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, public intimacy, public sex (kinda), fingering, unprotected sex ( p i v ), horny Logan

"Do we really have to go there?" Logan groaned in annoyance as he approaches you. "Yes! It's our friends' anniversary celebration, we can't miss it" you adjusted the last detail of your makeup in the mirror. You saw Logan in the reflection, as he gently attacks your neck. He gave you a sweet kisses at first, making you giggle but after a while he went wild and started biting you.

"Mhm okay let's save that for later hm?" you peeled Logan's head off of your now sore neck. "I hope it'll be soon" he smirked and you had to look away to cover your blushed cheeks.

Everyone knew you and Logan were the most sexually active couple far and wide. You've already fucked three times today, and that's not counting the intimate touches in public, or just in the kitchen, when you were preparing lunch. Despite how long you've been together, the spark of passion between you hasn't gone out, on the contrary, it's burning more and more.

But now you have to put all your desires aside and behave discreetly for at least a few hours. Wade and Vanessa are celebrating their anniversary, so they've invited you, along with others, to a fancy dinner at a surprisingly fancy restaurant. You were a little taken aback by this, because you imagined a modest party in their flat, but no argument against taste, let them do what they want. After all, you'd probably also like a luxurious moment for your anniversary once in your life.

"Alright, we can go" you announced when you wiped the remnants of red lipstick off your lips. You wore a gorgeous dress that accentuated your curves and makes Logan go crazy, whenever he looks at you. You couldn't lie, you wear them for a purpose to provoke him a bit and it's clearly working. Logan matched your dress with a basic black suit with black shirt underneath. You looked and felt like the richest couple under the sun for a while.

"M'lady" Logan offered you his shoulder, which you took with joy on your face as you both walked towards the door. The ride wasn't long, it was raining outside, which didn't bother you that much. It bothered you from the fact that the rain will probably ruin your makeup and hair, but you didn't mind, because it added a mysterious atmosphere. Logan couldn't help himself, holding your thigh tightly the entire ride as he focused on the steer. From time to time he stroked you with his thumb, or squeezed you really hard, but other than that he kept himself pretty well under control.

"You look really irresistible in that dress" Logan whispered in your ear, as he helps you getting out of the car. Your corners lifted up and your face got all red again. Each of his compliments always flatters you so much, that your face turns into a tomato in no time.

Your eyes widened as you saw the entrance to the restaurant. It was much more fancier than you expected. Logan acted casually, like it was something he sees everyday, but inside he was just as surprised as you.

Logan looked at you and closed your mouth, making you smile awkwardly as he caught you. “I can't believe Wade agree with this” you said as you walked up the stairs, that seems like they're endless. Your only advantage was that you wore a short dress and didn't have to hold it on the way up.

"Me neither, she must've promised him the best blow job of his life" you poked Logan into his shoulder over such a perverted remark, making him chuckle, but you quietly agreed.

You both breath out as you finally reach the last stair and walk over to the door. It was like in every American movie. There was a guy in a suit standing next to the main door, who had list of all the guests. Even though you were sure you both are on the list, you got nervous. You always have stage fright from such situations, but thanks to Logan, it decreases and helps you overcome it.

Thanks to his mutant powers, he could sense your heartbeat increase. He tightly squeezed your weist and gave you a quick kiss into your hair, which always helps you calm down. "Good evening" Logan politely greeted the door guest and you quickly joined in. All your worries were gone when the entire inspection went smoothly and without any problems. You are always afraid of things that are not so big after all.

When you finally walked in, you were both dazzled by the intense lights. After you got used to the high brightness, you started to perceive things around you. In the corner there was a piano which automatically played beautifully, the whole restaurant was white with gold accessories and chandeliers. All the tables were almost full and the people sitting around them looked like they had billions dollars on their account. "I don't feel comfortable" Logan said as he looked around. "Me too, don't worry, we'll be here just for a while" you patted Logan's shoulder, calming him down a bit.

"I hope so” you both stopped as you notice a woman standing up and waving at you. You immediately recognized that it was Vanessa, who invited you to sit down. "Alright here we go" Logan quietly motivated himself and you took a deep breath.

You love Wade and Vanessa, you really like them, but thanks to the current conditions, your nervousness played pretty hard with your hormones and mood. It wasn't a cup of coffee for Lofan either, but what wouldn't he do for his colleague slash friend. Well, rather, what wouldn't he do for you.

“Hii!” With a huge smile on your face, you greeted everyone and sat down with Logan at the only free seats that were left. You were inundated with the greetings and voices of others. It took you a minute to process who all sat at the table and recognize them. There was Peter Rasputin, Ellie Phimister, Blind Al, Yukio and many others with whom you exchanged smiles and greetings.

"Aren't we late?" you asked as you noticed that you and Logan were the last to arrive. Vanessa shook her head, her joyful smile didn't leave her face for a second. "No don't worry, you're here on time" "You must've been very busy huh" Wade smiled provocatively at Logan, who didn't quite return the smile. Rather, he gave him a death glare, which made Wade immediately drop that cocky grin and look down.

"Um, anyway, how are you? Have you already dealt with..." you showed your hand and pointed to the ring finger. Vanessa chuckled and looked at Wade, who was a little taken aback. "We've thought about it, yeah but we still think we have time" Wade answered for Vanessa, though you still thought she would have a slightly different opinion. However, you didn't want to start any drama so soon, so you left the whole theme about wedding.

"Let's uhh order something, shall we?" Wade saved the awkward upcoming silence and everyone hummed in agreement. You checked on Logan, who was already staring at you with a wholesome smile on his face. You couldn't help yourself but blush again. "What?" you moved your lips softly, almost inaudibly. "Nothing" Logan answered you in the same way, placing a soft kiss in your hair again.

There were few awww's and ewww's flying around, when Logan moved away from you. "And what about you two? Have you tied the knot yet?" Yukio asked with her typical childish smile that warmed your heart whenever you saw it. "Oh! No no no" you shake your head and avoid any eye contact. "For now we're fine with the way it is" you confidently explained your view of your relationship and looked at Logan, to see if he agreed. You deduced from his smile that he has the same opinion.

"Okay let's stop talking about weird things and let's order!" Wade saved the situation again, handing out menu sheets to everyone. You nodded in agreement and took it, opening it so that even Logan could look and choose.

The whole dinner was wonderful. There was hardly a minute of silence, you still had something to talk about and despite occasionally forgetting that you were in a luxury restaurant where you should behave on a level, you enjoyed it. You haven't laughed so hard in a long time, Wade is the best comedian you know.

You were all currently eating the second course of dinner. Logan, as usual, had eaten it way before you and he took advantage of that opportunity right away. He grab your thigh, making you flinch but didn't cause any other reaction. You were used to his sudden touches, it was nothing new to you. Or at least you thought so.

Surprised, you hit your fork on the plate as Logan's insidious hand moved closer to your panties. You were lucky no one really paid any attention to you, because Logan was merciless. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers touched the soft fabric of your thong, gently making tiny circles around your clitoris through them.

You bit your lips to keep yourself quiet and quickly dropped your swaddle to grab Logan's hand as a warning. That didn't stop him at all, rather it encouraged him to add strength and speed. He was keeping his cool and stern expression like he wasn't just fingering you under the table in a public place.

You instinctively pressed your legs together as Logan began brushing your folds forcefully, still through your thong. You tried your best to be calm and casual, but how could you? Logan was playing with you, making up for all the time you could've been fucking, but went to dinner instead. He was giving it to you a bit like revenge.

You quickly check on everyone if someone is watching you, but luckily everyone was having fun with everyone else and absolutely no one batted an eye at you. "Logan" you whimper softly as you drop your head and tighten the grip on his wrist. He quickened his pace and continued to press against your clit.

You drop your knife and balled your hands into fists as you felt the heat build up between your legs. Logan couldn't help but smirk, as he saw you struggling to keep quiet. He knows how much you like to scream.

But he maliciously decided to make it even harder for you. He tug your thongs aside, freeing your wet pussy to cold fresh air but before you could recover, Logan continued the same movements with his fingers that he'd been doing so far. Only with the difference, that now it was on your bare pussy.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck...." you whisper under your nose as the feeling to pee started hitting you. Your hips naturally move to the rhythm of Logan's fingers. It still wasn't enough for him, so he insert one fingers inside you, making you jump in your seat. "Are you okay?" suddenly Vanessa asked, making everyone look at you and pay attention to you. Great, exactly what you needed right now.

You look up at her through your eyebrows and harshly nodded. "Yep, I'm fine" you took the opportunity to answer properly, before you clenched your teeth and tensed all your muscles. Logan didn't stop, his finger frequently curling into you while keep teasing your sensitive clit.

"Really? Doesn't that food make you sick?" you really appreciated her concern, but it was really inconvenient at the moment. “I-um…” your mind quickly thought of some credible answer as you kept your legs firmly together. “I need to bounce” you moved away from the table, forcing Logan to remove his hand from you.

Everyone looked at you with raised eyebrows. But the only thing that mattered to you right now was to run to the bathroom and calm down. After all, you were pretty close to orgasm and the moment you stopped the process, your hormones turned inside out. The moment you got to the ladies bathroom and found that no one was there, you rushed to the sink and leaned against it. You breathed deeply, desperately trying to stop the pulsating between your legs.

"Hey baby" you heard a familiar low voice. “Wait what-” “I told them I was going to check on you” Logan walked over to you elegantly and without warning started passionately kissing you. "We have ten minutes max" he quickly announced between the pauses in the kisses and before you could ask any more questions, Logan enchanted you with his charm and hand placements.

You took Logan's words seriously and therefore you didn't waste any time. Logan picked you up by your tights and squeezed them. He moved from your lips to your neck biting and sucking the skin. He loved tagging you and seeing those purple bruises on your neck always fed up his ego.

You could feel his erection trapped in his pants, poking you in your inner thigh. His groaning tickled your earlobes, sending waves of pleasure right down there. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this" he smelled your perfume that hits him righ into his twitching dick. You whimper and pull his silky hair, as you checked the door.

You couldn't get over the thought of being caught. They would definitely kick you out, this is so inappropriate in a place like this, but it made you all the more excited. Logan rolled up your dress and grabbed your thong, which he tore in one graceful motion. You gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at Logan's cocky grin. "I'll get you new one" he kissed you hungrily and put your thong in the back pocket of his pants, which soon ended up on the ground.

In a second Logan wasn't even wearing briefs and there was one last part left to finally get what he'd been wanting since you put on that slutty dress.

Despite how hard he wanted to fuck you, he didn't want to hurt you. He carefully pushed himself into you, waiting a little for you to get used to him. During that time he kissed you passionately and fought with your tongue. Your saliva mixed into a delicious concoction, which you both couldn't get enough of.

When he felt your subtle pelvic movements, he devilishly chuckled and started thrusting into you. At first smoothly and slowly, but gradually he increased the pace until he reached the highest point of both speed and power.

Whenever his balls touched your skin, you let out a soft moan. Logan grabbed you by the neck, hard enough but not uncomfortably. He was in the exact border you loved. Logan loved the dominance and control he had over you just as much. You both complemented each other perfectly.

"Mhm just like that baby" he groaned while he was mercilessly pounding into you. The wet sound started echoing throughout the bathroom and you knew you were at your absolute limit. You bit your lips so hard that blood started to appear but you didn't care.

Whenever Logan reached inside, he always nudged your cervix, creating an incredible waterfall between your legs. The heat in your lower abdomen was at boiling point and you felt the urge to pee again. "Logan fuck Logan!" you tried to warn him but you didn't even have to. He knew it when your walls tightened around his length.

"I know princess" he freed your neck and he cupped your cheek, looking deep into your eyes as he pounded into you with the last of his strength and energy.

It only took a few of his movements and you finally reached your orgasm. In a few seconds, Logan achieved his goal as well. You both tried to catch your breath, as your foreheads were glued to each other.

"You're amazing" you giggle and shake your head. "Stop" you felt your cheeks heat up again. "I mean it, you're really amazing, the best" he kissed you, soft cute kisses that calmed both of your heartbeats down a bit.

"Now let's go back, he's definitely looking for us" he carefully pulled himself out of you and cleaned you both with a napkins. You then quickly got dressed, well you didn't have to actually, because Logan owned your ruined thong.

You walked out of the restrooms. You came out first, then Logan quietly followed behind you. When you sat back down, no one looked for you just the opposite, nor did they notice you had come until you made sounds. "Hey! Are you feeling better?" Yukio immediately asked you and you nodded your head with a smile.

Dinner went on without a hitch and Logan controled himself the whole time until you came back home. You ended the whole day and evening with the fifth, most romantic sex. What more can you say, you're damn grateful for that ravenous lover.

[pucksandpower]

Ours to Protect

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: life with your boys may be chaotic but, through all the ups and downs, you wouldn’t change it for the world

Warnings: depictions of injury, vague descriptions of pregnancy, and Jos Verstappen being Jos Verstappen

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, the roar of the crowd already audible even from the secure paddock parking area.

Your stomach flutters with nerves and excitement as you smooth down your outfit and head towards the paddock entrance. This is your first race of the season and the reporters and fans are always rabid at the start of a new year.

As you enter the paddock you glance around, looking for Charles or Max but neither are immediately visible in the organized chaos. You clutch your paddock pass, suddenly feeling self-conscious walking through alone.

The other drivers’ wives and girlfriends are already gathered in small groups, greeting each other with cheek kisses as they exchange pleasantries. A few give you sidelong glances as you walk by, no doubt wondering why you’re alone when the rest of them arrived together with their partners.

You keep your head high, ignoring the looks. Your relationship with Charles and Max has been going strong and so far you’ve kept it private, with only close friends and family aware that the three of you are together. The public and the media still think of you as just a friend and you aren’t sure how they would react if they knew the truth. The three of you have discussed going public but agreed it’s better to wait, wanting to enjoy your time together out of the spotlight for now.

Still, you wish Charles or Max were with you as a buffer from prying eyes. You check your phone but there are no new messages. They must both still be busy with their pre-race preparations. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the Red Bull garage first, figuring you’ll find Max there.

As you approach, you spot a small crowd of reporters loitering near the garage entrance. They perk up as they see you coming, immediately descending upon you with microphones and cameras.

“Y/N! Over here!” One calls out. “Are you here to see Max?”

You stop short, feeling cornered as they form a semi-circle around you. “Um, yes, I’m just heading to the garage to say hi,” you say carefully.

“And what about Charles?” Another reporter asks, eyebrow raised suggestively. “Will you be visiting him in the Ferrari garage as well?”

You freeze, panic rising. Do they know about your relationship? You haven’t been seen together in public yet. “I-I’m friends with both Charles and Max,” you stammer.

“Just friends?” A third reporter chimes in skeptically. “Our sources say you’ve been getting very cozy with the two drivers lately. Care to comment on the rumors that you’re stringing them both along?”

You take a step back, heart pounding as their questions come rapid-fire.

“Are you cheating on one with the other?”

“How long do you think you can keep this charade going before they realize?”

“Doesn’t it bother you, playing with their feelings like this?”

Their accusations hit you like blows, your anxiety spiking as you find yourself backed up against a wall, cameras flashing in your face. This is your worst fear come to life. You look around desperately for an escape but find only unsympathetic faces staring back at you, judging you.

“I … I have to go,” you gasp out, ducking your head and pushing your way blindly through the crush of bodies. You can hear them calling out more questions but you block it out, focused only on getting away. You’re shaking and feel sick, tears pricking at your eyes.

Is this what it will be like if you ever go public? This is exactly why you wanted to keep it quiet.

Suddenly you collide with a solid chest. Strong hands grasp your shoulders and you look up with a start to see Max gazing down at you, concern creasing his brow.

“Whoa, schatje, what happened?” He asks. He glances over your shoulder at the reporters who have reluctantly backed off but are still hovering nearby. Max’s jaw tightens as he seems to grasp the situation.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say shakily, embarrassed by your reaction.

Max studies your face, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says gently, keeping an arm wrapped securely around you as he guides you away from prying eyes.

Once you’re safely inside the Red Bull motorhome, Max steers you over to a quiet corner and helps you sit. Crouching down in front of you, he brushes a strand of hair back from your face. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You take a shuddering breath, willing yourself to calm down. “The reporters ambushed me outside. They started accusing me of stringing you and Charles along. I just panicked and had to get out of there.”

Max’s face darkens. “Those goddamn vultures. What the hell gives them the right ...” He cuts off his tirade with a sigh, taking your hands in his. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that alone. I should have been there with you.”

You give him a shaky smile. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Max kisses your forehead. “Let me go talk to Charlie so he knows what happened. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod gratefully. After Max leaves you take deep breaths, willing your racing heart to settle. You knew the secrecy couldn’t last forever but you weren’t prepared for the cruelty of those reporters. The idea of having to face that regularly if you go public makes you feel ill.

You’re lost in thought when another familiar voice says your name. Looking up you see Charles hurrying over, the same concerned look on his face that Max wore earlier. You stand and Charles immediately folds you into a tight hug.

“Are you alright, ma belle?” He murmurs. “Max told me what happened.”

You cling to him, taking comfort in his embrace. “I’m okay now. Just a bit shaken up.”

Charles’ jaw is tight as he pulls back to look at you. “I’m so sorry I was not there. I should have been with you.” His hand comes up to cup your cheek tenderly.

You cover his hand with your own. “You couldn’t have known. I’m the one who decided to come alone like an idiot.”

Charles starts to argue but you cut him off. “Let’s not play the blame game, okay? I just want to put it behind me.”

Charles presses his lips together but nods. “Of course. As long as you are alright.” He kisses your forehead sweetly. “I will not leave your side for the rest of the day, I promise.”

You give him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Just then Max returns. “How is she doing?” He asks Charles quietly.

“A bit better I think. Still shaken though.”

Max nods, his eyes stormy. “I warned the press to back the hell off but I doubt they’ll listen.”

Your heart sinks. The last thing you want is them continuing to hound you every race. You bite your lip. “Maybe … maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

Max and Charles exchange a surprised look. “Are you sure?” Charles asks cautiously. “We do not have to do anything until you are ready.”

You take a breath. “I’m not really. But I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder constantly either, you know? And I hate feeling like we have to hide.” You look between them. “I mean, only if you both are comfortable with it too. But maybe it’s time.”

Max considers you thoughtfully. “I’m ready when you are. I’m tired of sneaking around too. If this is what you want, I’m with you.” He glances at Charles who nods.

“Oui, I agree. I do not enjoy the secrecy either. I am ready to tell the world you are both mine.” Charles smiles and pulls you close again.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Well it’s definitely not going to be easy, but with you two by my side, I’m ready.” You take each of their hands, feeling emboldened.

Charles grins and kisses your cheek. “Then let’s do this.”

The three of you head out of the garage hand in hand. You hold your head high as you approach the still lingering reporters, flanked on either side by your boys. Their steady presence gives you courage.

The reporters perk up excitedly seeing the three of you together, shouting questions, but you ignore them. At an unspoken signal you all stop and turn to face the cameras head on.

Charles leans in and kisses you sweetly, then Max does the same, before kissing each other with you sandwiched firmly between them. You smile against their lips, the action speaking louder than any words. Then, without giving the reporters time to process what just happened, you continue walking down the paddock, leaving behind an audience with their jaws on the floor.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as their shocked reactions fade behind you. Let them talk. You have everything you need right here. Wrapping your arms around your boys, you head off to face the rest of the day, and your future, together.

No more hiding. The world knows now. And you’ve never felt more free.

***

The morning sun filters in through the curtains, stirring you awake. You stretch leisurely, reaching across both sides of the large bed only to find it empty. The faint clinking of dishes filters in from outside the room — your boys must be up already making breakfast.

Smiling sleepily, you drag yourself out of bed and shuffle towards the kitchen, eager for coffee. As you enter, you find Charles at the stove scrambling eggs while Max sets the table.

Charles glances up with a grin. “Bonjour, ma belle. Sleep well?”

You hum affirmatively, accepting the mug of coffee Max hands you with a quick peck on the lips. “What time is it?”

“Just after 9,” Max says. “We were going to let you sleep in but breakfast is ready.”

You sip your coffee, leaning back against the counter. “That’s okay. I wanted to go to the farmer’s market this morning anyway. Care to join me after we eat?”

“I wish I could, but I have a training session in an hour,” Charles says regretfully.

Max shakes his head too. “And I have a sponsor meeting.”

You pout playfully. “Fine, abandon me to go shopping alone.”

Charles chuckles. “We would never. But duty calls today unfortunately.” He plates the eggs with some toast and you all sit down to eat.

After breakfast, you quickly get ready while Max and Charles clean up. Emerging from the bedroom, you grab your purse and find them waiting to walk you out.

“Have fun at the market,” Max says, kissing your cheek. “Get some of those apricot tarts I like.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Only if you’re good.”

Charles hugs you tightly. “Be safe out there. Call if you need anything, yes?”

“I’ll be fine!” You assure him with a laugh. With a final wave, you head out the door and down to the lobby.

Stepping outside, you pause in confusion. A large crowd is gathered in front of your building. Fans, you realize. But how did they find your address?

Your heart sinks. Ever since going public, you’ve dealt with heightened interest and gossip. But this feels like a violation of privacy. Biting your lip uncertainly, you start trying to weave through the crowd towards the market down the block.

Immediately people press in excitedly around you. “It’s her!” You hear someone shout. Camera phones are suddenly in your face as people call out questions.

“How does being with the two of them work?”

“Be honest, do you prefer Max or Charles?”

You keep your head down, trying not to engage. Their invasive questions make your skin crawl. “Excuse me, please let me through,” you say as politely as you can.

But the crowd only seems to grow more aggressive, everyone shoving to get close and fire off more intrusive questions about your relationship. You feel hands grabbing at you and start to panic.

“Please, I need to get by,” you say, shrinking away from the grasping hands. But the crowd surges and someone shoves you hard from behind.

You cry out as you fall forward, directly into the path of an exuberant fan. Blinding pain explodes in your temple as her flailing elbow catches you across the face.

You hit the ground hard, vision graying out. Dazed, you try to curl into a protective ball as feet trample around you, completely oblivious.

“Stop, please!” You sob, blood dripping from your throbbing temple. But the crowd is a living entity now, crushing in on you. This is a nightmare.

Suddenly you hear a roar over the din. “GET BACK!”

The footsteps stutter to a halt as the authoritative voice bellows again. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!”

Then Max is there, somehow muscling his way through the press of bodies to drop to his knees beside you. His face is thunderous as he quickly but gently gathers you into his arms.

“Fucking animals,” he spits, glaring venomously at the stunned crowd as you cling to him desperately. “I’ve got you, just hold on.”

Over Max’s shoulder you can see Charles forcibly holding the fans at bay, yelling expletives in a jumbled mess of three languages. The path clears as Max carries you swiftly back into your building.

Once inside the apartment, Max lays you gently on the couch, hands feather-light as he examines your injuries. His jaw clenches when he sees the gash bleeding heavily at your temple.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says tightly. “This needs stitches.”

You nod weakly, letting him press a towel to stanch the bleeding while Charles comes bursting in, swearing violently when he sees the blood.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, kneeling beside you. His touch is infinitely gentle though as he brushes hair from your face.

“Got mobbed by those goddamn stalkers outside,” Max growls. “One of them elbowed her in the head.”

Charles’ expression darkens dangerously. You’ve never seen him look so livid before.

“We’ll deal with them later,” Max says firmly. “Right now we need to get her to the emergency department.”

Charles nods, visibly reigning in his anger. “You’re right, of course.” He looks back at you, anger fading to concern. “Are you able to stand, chérie?”

You cry out as simply trying to sit up sends shooting pain through your head. Charles’ jaw ticks as he looks ready to rush back outside and fight the crowd himself, before he easily lifts you into his arms, Max holding the cloth to your cut as they carefully get you down to the garage.

The car ride passes in a haze of pain and you cling to Charles in the backseat while Max drives, exhaustion hitting you.

At the hospital, Max scoops you up, carrying you inside despite your mumbled protests that you can walk. He ignores you, striding right up to the intake desk.

“She needs help now,” he snaps. The no-nonsense tone of his voice has nurses springing into action immediately.

Before you know it, you’ve been whisked off for scans and then into an exam room. A kind faced doctor stitches up your wound carefully while Max and Charles hover protectively on either side.

“Any other injuries?” The doctor asks gently.

You shake your head. “Just some bruises I think.”

She pats your leg. “I’d still like to do a full workup, including a pregnancy test, before we proceed with any other treatment or medication.”

Your eyes widen. With everything going on, your period being late hadn’t even registered. But now that she mentions it ...

Charles and Max go still beside you. “Pregnancy test?” Charles asks tightly.

The doctor smiles reassuringly. “Standard procedure. I’m sure it’s just a precaution.”

Charles grabs your hand, tension radiating off him while you wait on the results. Max paces like a caged animal until the doctor returns. Her kind eyes immediately give it away.

The tests come back quickly and the doctor steps back in to review the results. “No signs of fracture or serious head injury, that’s good news. We’ll get you a prescription for the laceration and ...” she trails off, looking at the chart with a slight frown.

You feel Max and Charles tense on either side of you. “What is it?” Max asks sharply. “Something wrong?”

The doctor looks up. “No, nothing wrong. Just unexpected. The bloodwork indicates that you’re pregnant, about 8 weeks along.”

“Mon dieu,” Charles breathes, stunned. Max ceases his pacing, mouth agape. They both turn to you with myriad emotions swirling in their eyes.

“A baby?” Max says hoarsely. “We’re having a baby?”

You place a hand over your still flat stomach, head spinning. “I guess we are.”

Charles lets out an incredulous laugh and surges forward to capture your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are blazing.

“They could have hurt our child,” he says darkly. You can see the protectiveness rising in him, mixed with anger at those who endangered his baby.

Max’s expression mirrors Charles’ stormy one. “Those goddamn animals,” he spits. “If anything had happened ...” His hands fist at his sides.

You reach for them both. “But nothing did,” you remind them gently. “We’re both okay.”

They take deep breaths, focusing back on you. Charles rests his forehead against yours while Max kneels to press a kiss to your belly.

“We won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Max vows fiercely. “Either of you.”

Charles nods, jaw set. “We will keep you both safe, I swear it.”

Their protectiveness makes you feel warm and cherished. You know with your boys watching over you, nothing can touch you or your child.

“I know you will,” you say softly. Drawing their faces down, you kiss them each lovingly.

A fierce joy lights their eyes now as the shock fades. You’re having a baby, the three of you. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together as a family.

Charles presses one more kiss to your lips, tender and full of promise. “I love you so much, all three of you,” he whispers.

Max squeezes your hand, eyes blazing. “I love you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

“And we,” your hand drifts to your still-flat stomach, “love you. My brilliant boys.”

***

The paddock buzzes with excitement on race morning, but for once it has nothing to do with fast cars or famous drivers. All eyes turn your way as you make your way through, one hand resting on your growing bump.

At five months along, your pregnancy is impossible to hide anymore. You’d managed to keep it quiet for a while, but last week an overly zoomed paparazzi shot of you in a fitted dress had let the secret out. Now it seems everyone has an opinion on your relationship dynamic and who the father might be.

You keep your head high, ignoring the whispers. Charles and Max wanted to shield you completely, but you refused to be stuck at home or made to feel ashamed. Besides, their steady presence on either side of you is comfort enough.

Charles presses a supportive hand to your lower back. “How are you feeling, chérie?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re good.” Over your head, his eyes meet Max’s, a silent conversation passing between them. Their protectiveness has ramped up tenfold since finding out you’re pregnant.

Nearing the Red Bull garage, Max steers you towards the bathroom. “I’ll meet you inside in a minute, okay? I just need to check in with my engineers first.”

You nod, squeezing his hand before separating. As you exit the bathroom shortly after, a commotion down the paddock draws your eye. Even from a distance, the man’s imposing figure is recognizable. Your heart drops into your stomach.

Jos Verstappen.

He’s gesturing angrily at a retreating figure, who you realize with dread is Max. You’ve never actually met Max’s father, but from what you’ve heard, the man is bad news. Max has only mentioned him in the past tersely, a shadow passing over his face. Whatever he suffered as a child at Jos’ hands seems to have left deep scars.

As you watch, Jos suddenly wheels around and stalks towards the Red Bull garage, no doubt having caught sight of Max going in. Swearing under your breath, you hurry after him. There’s no way this confrontation ends well.

Inside the garage, the mechanics fall silent at Jos’ dramatic entrance. He pays them no mind, making a beeline for Max, who has gone rigid. You slip in behind Jos, catching Charles’ eye where he stands with the Ferrari crew down the pitlane. His brow furrows in concern but you give a small shake of your head — let Max handle this first.

“Max.” Jos’ tone could freeze over hell. “Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Max’s face shutters. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“The hell you don’t!” Jos snaps. “I had to find out from the goddamn gossip rags that not only are you whoring around with multiple people, but one of them is pregnant? Have you no shame?”

Max flinches, looking stricken. Your hands curl into helpless fists at your sides.

“Watch yourself,” Charles suddenly growls, appearing behind you.

Jos whirls on him with a nasty sneer. “Stay out of this, playboy. This is between me and my son.” He turns back to Max. “Well? Explain yourself.”

Max seems to steel himself, straightening his spine. “There’s nothing to explain. What we have is no one’s business but our own.” His eyes flick to you and Charles briefly and soften before hardening again on his father.

“Bullshit!” Jos snaps. “Have you lost your mind? Carrying on with that girl while she whores around with this one too?” He jabs a finger at Charles then points at your belly. “And you’re telling me you’re fine possibly raising another man’s bastard as your own?”

Max’s expression darkens and he steps forward menacingly. “Watch. Your. Mouth.”

Charles moves closer too, vibrating with anger, but you grab his arm, shaking your head again. Let Max stand up to his father himself.

“We don’t care about who the biological father is,” Max continues fiercely. “That’s our child, no matter what. We’re a family.”

Jos scoffs. “A family? You’re delusional. What happens when those two get bored and leave you behind? This little fantasy you’re living is going to destroy your career.”

“You’re wrong,” Max says sharply. “I love them, and they love me. I’ve never been happier than with them.” His eyes soften again as he looks at you and Charles once more. “I don’t need or want anything else.”

Jos’ lip curls derisively. “Pathetic. I didn’t raise you to be so weak. This ends now, before you ruin your life even more. You will get rid of her and end things with the boy too.”

Charles growls, shaking off your restraining hand to storm forward. But Max beats him to it, getting right in Jos’ face.

“No,” he says, so firmly it brokers no argument. “You don’t control my life anymore. I won’t let you tear apart my family. Now get the hell out of my garage before I have you removed.”

For a moment Jos just gapes, clearly not expecting Max to stand up to him. His face purples with rage but before he can respond, security is there grabbing him by the arms.

“I think it’s time for you to go, sir,” one says firmly, already hauling Jos away.

He struggles in vain, spluttering furiously. But Max has already dismissed him, turning away. Only once Jos is gone does Max seem to deflate, shoulders slumping.

In an instant, you and Charles are both there, wrapping him in your arms. He clutches you both desperately, face buried in your hair.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his back.

Charles presses a kiss to his temple. “You were very brave, mon amour. I’m proud of you for standing up to him.”

Max huffs out a shaky laugh. “Didn’t feel very brave. But I meant what I said — I’m not letting anyone take either of you away from me.”

He pulls back to meet your eyes earnestly. “You are my family now. The only thing that matters to me.” His hand comes to rest gently on your belly. “All three of you.”

Emotion clogs your throat and you see Charles blink back tears. You both lean in simultaneously to kiss Max’s cheeks.

“We love you so much,” you whisper fiercely. “And we’ll always be a family, no matter what.”

Charles nods. “You are stuck with us now. We are yours, just as you are ours.”

The last of the tension bleeds from Max’s frame and he gifts you both with a brilliant, beautiful smile. Leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes shine with happy tears.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he says softly. “I have everything I’ll ever need right here.”

You smile through your own tears, heart overflowing. Together, wrapped in the safety of each other’s love, you know everything will be okay.