#I’ll be curious to see what he decides

[leonsliga]

best news!! manu has been cleared by the doctors to play on saturday (but he gets to decide by himself if he wants to) I hope he'll start 🥰

Official medical clearance? LET'S GO BITCHESSSSS

[quibbs126]

So I just learned that the voice actor for Donatello Versus in the English Stone Ocean dub was Isaac Robinson-Smith, aka Dark Choco’s VA

And what makes it funnier is that in both series, the character’s dad (whom I imagine they have a complicated relationship with) is voiced by Patrick Seitz

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Image this:

Danny is sixteen. He just found out he is to become King, with a capital K, when he becomes a mature ghost, which is at least 20 years after his death. So he’s got time. Everything’s fine. Except for the Observants pushing his education. Tutors shoving information down his throat like he’s cramming for finals. Princess Dora, Pandora, Frostbite, and even Clockwork checking on him frequently and making a schedule for him to come visit their territories for little learning sessions. Fright Knight has been following his every move. And let’s not forget the other random ghosts he’s never even met before coming to ask for favors or to complain or just give him their problems in general and expect him to fix it.

He can’t even let his frustrations out! All his regular rogues avoid him now! Even Vlad doesn’t want to get involved, but that could be because he’s still bitter about not getting the crown like he wanted.

Good thing he knows a king that has probably been through the same thing.

King Arthur of Atlantis. In other words, Aquaman.

Because Danny wasn’t technically king yet, crowned prince is probably the right title?, he couldn’t just call him up or send a letter asking to meet. So Danny decides to go give the man a visit himself.

Using process of elimination, he was able to find Atlantis after about two months of research and searching. He didn’t have a whole lot of free time, okay?

Turning invisible and flying through the water was a lot easier than he thought. Getting through the barrier was a piece of cake and the castle was obvious to find. What wasn’t obvious to find was the king himself. He wasn’t in the throne room, or his study, or the training grounds, or literally anywhere in the castle. He checked.

No. He finds the king playing some game with some kids in the underwater city.

It was surprising to find him there, especially after the etiquette lessons from Dora, but it gave Danny some hope that maybe he wouldn’t be miserable and burdened with paperwork and boring meetings when he becomes king.

Danny turns visible. They were still invested in the game but the guards noticed him. Spears were pointed at him in a second.

“Halt! State your business,” the guard demands.

The shout caused everyone in the area to stop and look, including the king.

Danny raises his hands in surrender.

“Uh, hi. Sorry to stop the game, I just wanted to talk- sorry, speak to King Arthur, if- if that’s okay? There wasn’t an address to mail to that I could find-“

“It’s okay,” the king interrupts. “Let’s go somewhere private to talk then. Do you have any weapons on you?”

Danny perks up at the opportunity to finally talk to him.

“Yes please! And no, no weapons, sir.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” the king replies with a smile. Danny smiles back widely.

“My king-“

The king holds up a hand to stop the guard’s worries.

When they finally arrive to the throne room of the palace King Arthur turns to Danny.

“Who are you?” He asks in a tone that was a bit more serious than it was before.

“Oh! Sorry. Hi. I’m Danny. Danny Phantom. It’s nice to meet you, King Arthur,” he answers quickly with a nervous smile.

The king nods, obviously thinking about something else as he watches Danny with guarded eyes.

“How can you breathe underwater if I may ask? I’m curious.”

“Well that’s easy, I’m not breathing.”

“You’re… not breathing,” the king repeats with skepticism.

“Yea,” Danny agrees freely. “I don’t have to breathe if I don’t want to. You know, because of the whole ghost thing.”

“Ghost?”

“Yea. Can turn invisible, walk through walls, fly- you know. Haven’t you ever seen a ghost before?”

Danny tries a bit of humor with a crooked smile, but it falls when he sees the contemplative expression on the king’s face.

“Wait, seriously? You’ve never seen a ghost?”

“I’m aware of a ghost named Deadman apart of Justice League Dark but he is invisible to everyone.”

“Really?! I didn’t know that! I need to go talk to him! Where can I find him?”

“Hold on there, guppy. Didn’t you want to talk about something?”

Danny is drawn back to the topic at hand.

“Right, okay, so I was recently told I was gonna be king in like twenty years, which is news to me, and now they are just throwing everything at me with all this information I don’t know what to do with and I’m getting complaints and requests and everyone is expecting so much from me when I’m literally sixteen years old! I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, whether I want to go to college or if I’ll even graduate high school, and they want me to solve territory disputes and create new laws and provide protection for those who want to go into the living plane. I just- I don’t know what I’m doing and the only king I could think of was you, so I guess I was wondering if you could, I don’t know, give me some advice or if I could shadow you for a bit to see what an actual king should do or act. I know it’s a lot to ask coming from someone you don’t even know, but I’m just a bit overwhelmed with everything and I don’t really know where to go from here and was hoping you would at least understand. My friends don’t get it and the other ghosts are kinda afraid of me now because of my title and they wouldn’t get it anyway…” he trails off awkwardly.

Arthur had never had this conversation before. He was honestly flattered and the kid looked genuine. Maybe he’d wait until one of the magic users okay-ed the young ‘ghost’ before revealing any information about himself.

He pulls out a device and throws it the kid. Danny dodges just to snatch it out of the air from reflex alone.

“That’s a communicator. I’ll send Deadman and Constantine your way and call when I get the okay. Where are you located?”

Danny’s toxic eyes were big and hopeful, shining brightly through the water.

“Thank you, sir! Amity Park, Illinois, the most haunted city in America!” He answers proudly.

The king just smiles.

[satorusugurugurl]

Spot the Difference

Summary: You claim that you can tell whose who between your boyfriends. They decide to put you to the test.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, bondage, restraints, blindfold, oral sex (male receiving), pinv, unprotected sex, language

Word Count: 3,868

A/N: just a drabble! 💚

Several benefits come along with dating your best friends. Conversations were easy to have. Things were barely weird or awkward, and you knew each other like the back of your hand, from how you liked your coffee to your favorite snacks and meals. You knew your boyfriend so well, it was easy for you to tell them apart, even when you weren’t looking at them. That’s how close the three of you were.

“There’s no way you can tell them apart without seeing them,” Shoko called out as the four of you sat around the apartment.

“Yes, I can.”

“Both of them are muscular and over 6 feet tall. You think I believe you?”

“I’ll show you!” You grab one of Gojo’s blindfolds off the coffee table with your back turned to the group. “You two go to the kitchen and come back one at a time, and I’ll tell you who is who.”

Your partners were intrigued to see if you could tell them apart without looking at them. So they played along. Satoru was the first to come up behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, gently squeezing you as he pulled you closer into his chest. While Suguru trailed his hands over your shoulders before gently running up and down your arms before they slid down to interlace with your fingers. The entire time he caressed you, his lips pressed gently against your temple. Once they each had a turn, they were back in their respective seats. You pulled the blindfold, tossing it onto the coffee table, and triumph

“Toru was the first, and Suguru was the second.”

Everyone stared at you long before Shoko scoffed, “I bet you could smell their cologne!” Both Satoru and Suguru exchanged looks with each other. Neither of them was wearing anything remotely close to that.

“Say what you want, but I know my boyfriends.”

Did you really know them? After that night, the duo made it their goal to see if you knew who was who and when your back was turned.

Geto snuck into the shower with you as you washed your face. His hands wrapped around you like Satoru had done the night before. With a grin, you lean back into his chest as you rinse the suds off your face. “Hi, Sugu.” While Satoru crawled into bed with you while you were napping, purposely laying on Suguru’s side, he pulled you close, careful not to say anything as you hummed, rubbing your hand over his arm wrapped around your waist. “Welcome home, Toru.”

They kept their antics up for over a week. Gently touching you from behind, snuggling, calling texting hell, they even switch their body wash and colognes around, and every time you knew who was who without hesitation, it was almost flattering to know you knew both of them so well. Still, it also made them curious to see to what extent you knew them.

Which was how you ended up, blindfolded, hands tied behind your back as you lay on the bed. Your arms were tied to each bed while you spread your legs as wide as possible. Your boyfriend stood at the head of the bed, taking your naked body sprawled out before them.

“Is there an early Christmas present in June?” You squirmed in anticipation, pressing your thighs together as you felt the bed dip as they both crawled near you. “Lucky me!”

“Nah, this is more of an experiment.”

“Oooh, kinky!”

Suguru scoffed, ruffling the top of your head. “Not like that; we wanted to play a guessing game saying that you know us so well.” You cooed, squirming a bit more.

“Still kinky.”

“We’re going to take turns fucking you, and you can guess who’s who by how we feel inside of you,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

“Pfft, easy money. What do I get if I win?”

“Uh, you get to cum.”

“Nah, fuck that, I know you guys have been testing me all week. I think I deserve more than an orgasm as a prize.”

Your partners hum, thinking for a moment before Suguru pulls his hand away from the top of your head. “How about we take you on a trip to Okinawa? I’ll book us at that resort we stayed in before.” Both you and Satoru nodded with excitement.

“Now that’s a reward!”

“A reward you’ll get if you can tell us apart.”

Satoru is the first to move, positioning himself between your legs as he slides the tip of his cock inside. You whine, arching your back as he continues pushing inside of you until he bottoms out. Suguru’s eyes are dark between both his partners, his cock throbbing as he wraps his hand around it, gently stroking it. The white-haired man is breathing, trying to make a sound so you don’t know that it’s him on top of you. But you seem so out of it, the loss of your side to enhancing the pleasure of gently into your cunt. His thrusts are sharp and deep, making sure to hit your g-spot with each drag of his velvety smooth shaft.

You moan lips, parting in a string of whispers as Toru grips your hips and one hand while the other covers his mouth as he fucks into you faster. You’re the only one moaning out as partners try to make it impossible for you to tell who is who. And listening to your moans and your moans alone makes the room hotter.

Your white-haired boyfriend is pulling all the way out before his hips forward. The wet squelching sounds of your pussy, join the sweet whines of your pleasure, making the erotic moment even sexier. While you lose yourself in the sensation of one of your boyfriends fucking into you, you never seem to notice them subtly changing position. Satoru is off to the side, groaning into his hand as Suguru picks up where his boyfriend left off.

The rough change of pace has your mouth falling. Your fingers try to grip the sheets underneath you, but you can’t reach them, so you dig your heels into the mattress, your toes curling. Seeing you lose control over yourself has Suguru covering his mouth with his elbow as his hand gropes your right breast, needing the soft flesh while his thumb rubs circles over your nipple.

“Nnngh!” You whimper, lifting your head, licking your side, searching for someone in the darkness. “Come back, I need you.” You beg into the room at Satoru, who is furiously jerking off at the sight of Suguru slamming his cock so deep into your tight cunt. “Oooh f—god! Fuck me, come back please!”

Satoru moves quietly, putting his cock next to your mouth. You jump at first, shocked by the warmth of the dribbling wet tip, probing at your lips. But you eagerly open your mouth, allowing it to slide in. Subaru dark brows knit together as he groans loudly into his elbow at the sight of Satoru biting down on his hand to prevent himself from moaning.

Both men aren’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The pleasure and eroticism of the whole situation are making their cocks throb as you gag and cry out around both of them as they fuck your pussy and your mouth as hard as they can. Both were chasing their orgasms while dragging you to the edge of your own with them.

Neither of them wants to stop, but they do. You gently tap his leg with your foot. He stops grabbing Satoru by his shoulder, pulling him back enough for his cock to pop out of your mouth. Both pant as you lick your lips, your chest heaving as you giggle breathlessly.

“As fun as this is, I want to hear your voices. So Satoru fuck my throat some more, and Suguru, go faster and harder.” As fast as they stopped, they picked up the pace even faster. They went back to filling both of your pretty wet holes.

Satoru is a whining mess. His cock is shoved down your throat while Sugueu is grabbing your hips fucking into your cervix as hard as he can. God, you were so good to them; you honestly did know them, and if that in itself wasn’t fucking hot, your crying out was even hotter!

“Haaah shit, fuck, you take it so good look how hot you are, sweetheart, choking on my cock. You’re gonna be a good girl. You’re gonna swallow every drop?”

“God, you’re so fucking hot, and you’re so fucking tight. My cock feels so good.” Hissing through his teeth, he brushes with his index finger. “Y-You’re convulsing, gripping my cock so tight, come on baby, you’re so close, cum for us!”

Between the friction and their nasty words, you cum, moaning around Satoru’s cock as you clench and twitch around Suguru’s. Your moans and trembling body have both your boyfriends cumming with you. Statoru’s cock is buried down your throat as his cum slides down it, causing tears to prick your eyes. While Suguru's hips buck faster and harder, ropes of his cum fill to the brim. But he doesn’t stop until his cock is over-sensitive, and he’s spent collapsing on top of you as Satoru pulls out, allowing you to breathe freely.

Swallow the cum; you pull away, gasping down air like it was water. You sigh in relief as Satoru unclasps the restraints around your wrists. The second you’re free, you yank Satoru down to snuggle with you and the still-recovering Suguru. Your hands gently play with both their heads. Fingers twirling around strands of white and black, winning groans of pleasure from both men. Only when Suguru feels like his soul has safely returned to his body does he lift his head to stare into your sleepy, spent eyes.

“How the hell were you able to tell who was who?”

“I just know my boys!” You giggle as he rolls his eyes, resting his head back on your bare breasts. “So, about that resort trip!”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[katsu28]

"Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation" for Lando if you are still taking requests! I love your writing sm!!❤️❤️

thank you so much!!!

lando norris x reader, 1.5k. request something from here!

“I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” 

You tilt your head at Lando as he slides back into his seat across from you, curious. He looks uncharacteristically serious. “What, did your card get declined or something?” 

“That’s—uh, excuse me? No.” Lando scoffs, scrunching his nose at you at the same time as he flips you off playfully. “My card did not decline, thank you very much. I’ll say it again, good news or bad news first?” 

“Good news first, always,” You insist firmly. 

Lando sighs, propping his elbows up on the table. “Good news, you got a free meal on me again. Bad news, there's a whole crowd of cameras and fans outside the restaurant right now and no way out the back.” 

“Oh.” 

Even just thinking about having to push through the whole gaggle of paparazzi outside has an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You know you should be used to it by now, seeing as you’ve been with Lando for a while and known him even longer, but it’s not something you go through on a regular basis. You’ve tried your very best to avoid it, really. 

Without him, nobody notices you. You can blend in with others and not have to worry about whether or not your life is being looked at through a microscope. 

With him, you feel thrust into the spotlight. Even though you know they’re not here for you, they’re here for him, it doesn’t seem like anyone cares so long as they get a picture of Lando. Of course, not all of the fans are like that, but in your experience, things can get out of hand very quickly. 

“I’m sorry, love. I know how much you hate crowds.” 

“Um, yeah, it’s alright. I can handle it.” Your voice sounds breathy, even to you, and Lando takes notice, his brow creasing in concern. 

“You sure? I can leave now and you can wait here til it all dies down. I promise I’ll circle back for you,” He offers, tilting his head. He reaches across the table to take your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Half of you wants to play it safe and take him up on the offer. It would be easier on yourself to take that route. 

At the same time, you don’t want to hide anymore. The greater part of you feels like it's about time you mustered up the courage to embrace the very thing that makes you nervous. Lando has to do it everyday, surely you can handle it once. 

“No. We’ll leave together,” You decide, firmer this time. He smiles and stands from his seat, ever a gentleman as he helps you up from your own seat. Your previous confidence takes a rather large blow when you get to the waiting area of the restaurant and actually see just how large the crowd outside is. You stop suddenly.

“I’ve got you,” He says softly. “I won’t let go of you.” 

“Promise?” 

Lando holds out his pinky towards you in a silent promise, a pre race tradition you’ve adopted to help him settle his nerves before a race. You study his completely sincere expression for a few moments before letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, hooking your pinky around his. Both of you bring your linked hands up to your mouth, kissing the side of your fists to seal the promise. 

A silly gesture from way back in his karting days, but the significance it holds now is set in stone. 

“Okay. Okay, fuck, let’s get this over with!” His fingers slide into yours now, squeezing your hand reassuringly just for good measure. 

It feels like a full body assault on all your senses coming from all sides the moment you step outside. Flashing cameras, screaming fans, being jostled around even as Lando pushes through the crowd first to try to clear the way for you. You make the mistake of looking out into the crowd instead of keeping your head down like him, and instantly you’re blinded by a series of photos being snapped inches in front of your face. 

You can’t see a thing anymore, vision swimming with white spots no matter how much you blink to try to get rid of them. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones, and Lando’s grip on your hand tightens, his other arm slipping around your waist to steady you before you trip again. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” He says into your ear, holding you close. He’s the only thing keeping you from panicking, your anchor in the ocean of people as he forges on towards the car waiting at the edge of the sidewalk. “Here, step up. Yeah, that’s it, grab there. Watch your head.” 

You scramble into the backseat of the car as quickly as you can so Lando can climb in after you. The door slams shut, and all that remains is silence. No more clamoring, no more screaming, just the rumble of the car under you and the telltale lurch that you’ve started to move. 

Collapsing back against the headrest, you laugh, high pitched and disbelieving. 

“Are you alright?” Lando’s voice sounds strained, tinged with concern, and his hand squeezes yours again. “All in one piece? All your limbs still attached?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’m okay, I just can’t really see anything right now,” You sigh. Your vision is still fuzzy, even in the darkness of the car. If you focus hard enough, you can kind of make out faint outlines of your surroundings, but you know it’ll be a bit until you’ll be seeing things clearly again. Lando makes a worried sound, and you're sure if you could see him his head would be cocked to the side, brows pinched in the middle. “Just the flashing cameras, probably. Now I know why you wear sunglasses everywhere you go.” 

He laughs then, giggles at you like you've said something absolutely hilarious. “I told you why I always have them on me! Did you think I was joking?” 

“No, I just always thought you were being a douchebag.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Only douchebags wear glasses indoors, Lando. And blind people, but you're not blind.” 

“You might be after this,” He snickers. You shove him with a huff. Well, your smack hits something firm and he yelps, so you assume it’s him. “Ow, jesus—fine, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn't be making fun of blind people.” 

“You shouldn’t be making fun of me! Why didn’t you bring them today?” 

“I did!” He insists. “I just…left them right here on the seat. Whoopsies.”

“Whoopsies.” 

The car returns you to Lando’s building, and thankfully by then your vision has returned so you can make your way up to his floor on your own. Lando’s gone quiet on the elevator ride up, which is a bit uncharacteristic of him. After a good meal like the one you’ve just had, usually he’s talking about how he wants to dive into bed and sleep for ten years. This time, he just stares at the changing numbers above the door silently. 

He wanders to the couch as soon as you get into the apartment, whereas you make your way over to the kitchen to grab some water. You grab a glass from the cabinet, not turning around as you ask, “Water, Lan?” 

“Do you ever regret it?” Lando sounds small, unsure. You freeze, wait for him to keep going, but he doesn’t. Confused, you turn around with the glass still in hand to see him not even looking at you, instead focusing hard on picking at a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. 

He fiddles when he’s upset, something you’d learned quite early on in just being around him. He’s actually quite easy to read, really. Or maybe it’s just because you love him so much you’ve become attuned to his body language, what he does when he’s sad, mad, and everything in between. 

You give an acknowledging noise for him to elaborate, and he drops the thread, finally looking up at you. “Being with me.” 

“Now why would you ever think that?” You’re the concerned one now, rushing over to sit beside him on the cushions. 

He shrugs, letting his shoulders drop heavily. “I dunno, just…everything that comes with me, it’s a lot to deal with, y’know? Sometimes I wonder if you wish my life wasn't so…public all the time.” 

You take Lando’s face in your hands firmly, tilting his chin up so he's looking directly at you. “I will gladly take you and everything you come with. No matter what it is. I never want you to doubt that, my love.”

“I don’t,” He says softly, a flicker of a smile gracing his face. “How did I ever get so lucky with you?” 

“I think it was the knobby knees and giant head that really made young me go, yeah, I want that one. I think the sentiment still stands too.” 

Lando's smile disppears. Now he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're mean. You're mean and I hate you."

"That was for making fun of me earlier!"

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[incognit0slut]

Prove me wrong

When you tease Spencer about his inability to be dominant in bed, he decides to prove you wrong by taking matters into his own hands.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) afab reader, established relationship, dom spence but he’s still gentle, spanking, fingering, edging/orgasm control ~3.6k words A/n: Every time I write him as a dom I always make sure to write a backstory, like I can’t imagine him being hard on you out of nowhere. Do you get what I’m saying? Anyway this is the spanking fic I was talking about the other day. lmk what you think!!

The giggle left your lips before you could stop yourself. You really shouldn’t be laughing, especially when you were straddling his lap in the midst of a hot, passionate make-out session. But you couldn’t help it, it was as if you had no control over your amusement. Spencer, however, did not find the humor in the words that had slipped out of your mouth.

“What? You don’t think I can do it?”

It wasn’t fair. You knew that. What had started as a casual conversation—with stolen kisses here and there—quickly escalated into a playful banter about who was more in charge in the relationship. You had been teasing him, confidently asserting that you were the one wearing the pants in the relationship because you couldn’t imagine him being in control.

The conversation naturally shifted to a more personal challenge, touching on the topic of dominance, a subject neither of you had seriously discussed before. You had laughed then, not out of mockery, but because the idea seemed so out of character for him.

“I just think you’re more comfortable with control in other areas,” you said, trying to stifle your giggle. “But in bed? I can’t picture it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And what areas do you think I’m more comfortable with?”

“Well, teaching for one,” you replied, leaning closer. “I’ve sat in one of your seminars. You’re always so confident standing in front of a classroom.”

“So you think I’m good at teaching?” he replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “But not at… other things?”

“Exactly,” you said, nodding. “I mean, you dominate the classroom with your knowledge. But that’s different from... you know, being dominant in bed.”

“Mhm.” His hands trailed up your legs before they settled on your waist. “Maybe those skills are more transferable than you think.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can’t possibly compare giving a lecture in front of your students to... this.”

“Why not? Both require confidence, understanding your audience, and knowing how to lead.”

“Nice try, but I’m still not convinced,” you teased. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, your lips barely brushing his, but he backed away, leaving you hanging. His eyes were serious, not amused by your skepticism. You laughed. It was clear he wasn’t satisfied with your perception of him.

“Baby, it’s okay. I don’t mind if this isn’t your strong suit.”

“Well I do.”

You tilted your head, giving him a curious look. “Since when do you care about my opinion?”

“Since you’re my girlfriend,” he replied. “And I can’t let you think less of me.”

“I never think any less of you.”

“But you’re doubting me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Oh, come on, stop making that face.”

Spencer's response was swift. His hands moved to gently cup your face, drawing your attention fully to him. “Tell me why you think I can’t be dominant in bed.”

You paused, thinking for a moment. “Well, you have this… air about you. It's hard to imagine you letting go.”

"Maybe I don't need to let go. Maybe I just need to take control in a different way," he said, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Maybe I can teach you a thing or two."

"You? Teach me?" You raised an eyebrow, mock disbelief coloring your tone. "This I have to see."

“I think you should be careful what you wish for,” He said under his breath, his lips now just a whisper away from yours.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” you shot back, smiling against his lips. “I just don’t think you have it in you.”

Without another word, he closed the distance between you.

His lips moved against yours softly yet deeply, carrying the usual sweetness you'd grown accustomed to, but there was a subtle edge this time. It wasn’t too harsh, but just enough to catch you off guard and make you part your lips. He took the invitation, his tongue tracing a deliberate path inside your mouth as his hand trailed up to hold the back of your neck.

Hot. You felt hot everywhere. Certain spots on your body felt as if they were on fire, the burn traveling through your veins before pooling between your thighs. You couldn’t believe a simple kiss could make you feel this way. The heat was intense, making you ache with a need that you instinctively started to move your hips, seeking more. But then he pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re not allowed to move.”

You frowned at him. “Why not?”

"Because..." His fingers traced a path to the hem of his shirt that you wore, the one you claimed as your own. He slowly began to lift it, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. “You need to earn it.”

You understood immediately what he was attempting. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you desperate. You realized it was some kind of power play, and this was his way to dominate you, to keep you on the edge. Each careful, controlled movement was a clear message to you. He was in charge, and you were left craving whatever he chose to give.

"Yeah?" You whispered, noticing the way your voice trembled with anticipation. "And how do I do that?"

He lifted the shirt higher, his hands sliding up your sides, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. “By letting me lead,” he said. “Maybe I'll give you what you want then.”

The fabric slipped over your head, and you sat there, perched on his lap, momentarily vulnerable under his intense gaze. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension palpable as you felt his hands rest lightly on your bare shoulders, his fingers tracing small circles before they trailed lower, stopping just above your breasts.

“Will you do that? Will you do what I say?”

You swallowed hard. This was new. You never thought you’d see him asking your permission to be in control, yet here he was, doing the exact thing you were skeptical about. And to your surprise, you liked this side of him.

“Will you?” He urged.

You felt your breathing grow heavy as his hands moved lower. “…yes.”

His thumbs brushed over your nipples. “I can’t hear you.”

You felt the sensation hit right through you, and it took a lot of self-control for you not to arch into his touch, to keep your voice steady as you repeated louder, “Yes.”

A satisfied smile played at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he whispered, leaning in to press an open kiss on your neck. “I think I can get used to this.”

You tilted your head, exposing your neck to him. He wasted no time, licking and sucking on your pulse point, making sure to leave his mark. His hands continued their exploration, squeezing your breasts gently, feeling their full weight in his palms. When he tugged on your nipples, pulling them harder than he ever had before, a moan escaped your lips, surprising even yourself.

His lips curved into a smirk against your skin. "Sounds like someone's enjoying this more than they expected.”

Breathlessly, you replied, "You're... doing okay, I guess."

"Just okay?" His breath was hot on your already heated skin. "I'll have to try harder then."

His fingers traced a teasing path down to the hem of your panties, playing with the soft fabric, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath. “Lift your hips.”

You complied, lifting your hips slightly, your breath catching as his fingers hooked around the fabric and slowly began to pull it down. You shifted on his lap, letting him slip off your panties completely. He discarded it onto the floor, his hands returning to your thighs, gently massaging the plumpness of it as he fixed his gaze on you.

There was something about you that captivated him at that moment. The way you trembled, the way your breathing quickened, the way your pupils dilated. Spencer had always loved the pure desire reflected in your eyes whenever he touched you, but this was different. It was raw, unfiltered desperation, and he wanted to savor it, to draw it out and see just how far it could go.

“See? Already doing better than just okay.”

Your breath hitched as his palm ran up your inner thigh. “You’re not done proving yourself yet.”

“You know,” he started, his voice low and teasing. “You shouldn’t really challenge me like this.”

“I’m not challenging you… you’re the one who started this.”

His fingers stopped just at the edge of the heat between your legs, teasingly close yet maddeningly far, but close enough to feel the dampness on your skin.

“No, you started this.” He moved his hand further, brushing against your outer lips. “You told me I wasn’t capable of being dominant.”

Your mouth fell open, a gasp escaping your lips. “I—I didn’t think…”

“Didn’t think I could take control?” His fingers grazed your slick pussy, slowly brushing your arousal between your folds. “Or didn’t think you’d enjoy it this much?”

You could only moan in response, your body reacting despite your attempts to keep your composure. 

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice as soft as his touch. “Are you still not convinced?”

Your breath hitched as his fingers found your clit. You gasped, trying to form coherent thoughts. “I… I’m starting to see your point.”

“I need more than that,” he uttered, and to your disappointment, he pulled away. “Lay down on my lap.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He smiled. “You heard me. Lay down on my lap.”

Hesitantly, you shifted, positioning yourself across his lap, your heart pounding in your chest. “Spencer, I don’t—” you started, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“Shh,” he cut you off, his hand softly patting your back. “Relax.”

He watched as you started to relax, the supple curve of your back arching slightly, highlighting the roundness of your ass as you settled into position. His hand rested lightly on your lower back while his other found your face, turning it towards him. His eyes met yours as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from your forehead.

"Look at me," he whispered. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes steady on his soft brown orbs even though your heart was racing while his other hand trailed down the curve of your hips. Then, without warning, his hand lifted from your skin only to come down gently in a firm, open-handed spank on your ass that resounded through the quiet room.

"Spencer!" you exclaimed, a flush spreading across your cheeks.

His hand rubbed the area soothingly. “Have I convinced you enough?”

You bit your lip, feeling the warmth of his touch both soothing and stimulating. “Maybe,” you replied breathlessly, your cheeks still flushed.

“Maybe?” He laughed. “Why do I feel like you’re doing this on purpose?”

You looked away, flustered, not wanting to admit the truth. “I’m not… I mean…” you stammered, your face heating up even more.

Seeing your reaction, he moved his hand between your thighs again, his fingers brushing against your slickness. “Interesting,” he hummed. “It seems you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on.”

You couldn’t help but moan softly at his touch. “Spencer…”

“But you don’t deserve this yet,” he said, pulling his hand back teasingly. “Not until you’ve fully earned it.”

His hand suddenly came down on your ass again, the sharp sound echoing through the room. The burning sting made you gasp. 

“Count,” he instructed.

You could feel your eyes well up with unshed tears, the intensity of the slap overwhelming. You should feel ashamed and embarrassed by the situation, everything about this should send you into sheer mortification. Yet, there was also an undeniable pleasure threading through the pain, so intense that you could feel yourself getting aroused.

Another spank followed, slightly harder this time. “I told you to count.” “Two,” you gasped.

His hand came down again, firmer than before. “Start from the beginning.”

You blinked away the moisture in your eyes, trying to steady your voice. “One...”

“That’s better,” he murmured, his hand connecting with your skin, the sensation sharper than before.

“Two...”

His eyes stayed locked on you, gauging every reaction as he slapped you again.

“Three,” you cried out.

You continued to count, the numbers blending with your gasps and moans. By the time you reached seven, you were panting, the tears finally spilling over your face. His touch softened, his fingers gently caressing your reddened skin as he pressed his lips on your cheek, trying to kiss your tears away.

“Oh, baby, you know I hate to see you cry,” his voice was sweet, almost cooing, but the underlying taunt was unmistakable as his hand came down again sharply on your ass. You cried out, but he continued to trail soft kisses along your jawline, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re doing so well,” he breathed. “But I need you to count again.”

“Eight,” you whined as you tried to catch your breath. Before you could fully process the last slap, you felt another sharp smack on your ass, making you cry out again. 

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered, the mix of sensations overwhelming you. His kisses were gentle, almost tender, but his hand was anything but soft.

“Just a little more, I promise,” he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and comforting. “What number was that?”

“Nine,” you choked out, your voice trembling.

“One more,” he whispered. “Just one last time. Can you be a good girl and count it out for me?”

You nodded, bracing yourself. He slowly lifted his hand again and paused in the air for a moment before letting it down in a firm, final spank.

“Ten!”

“Very good,” he praised softly, his voice warm and approving. He rubbed the stinging area gently as his lips found yours in a tender, reassuring kiss, his hand cradling your face gently.

“There, all done,” he said, pulling away. “Do you think you deserve your reward now?”

You nodded slightly, your body still humming from the intense sensations. “Please.”

His smile was soft when you met his gaze. “Alright,” he hummed. “You’ve earned it.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a shiver of anticipation run through you as his fingers slipped between your legs again. The warmth of his fingers against your folds sent waves of pleasure through your body, and when he pressed gently against your clit, a gasp escaped your lips. You arched into his touch, every nerve ending tingling with the sensations he was creating. The pleasure built steadily, each stroke sending you higher, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Spencer,” you moaned, unable to hold back yourself as you arched your back, your hips grinding against his fingers, seeking more of the delicious friction.

“You’re so wet,” he sighed with a hint of surprise and satisfaction. “You like it when I go hard on you?” 

You could only nod in response, your mind barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he was working on you.

“Do you think you can take it if I go harder?” he asked, his fingers stilling for a moment, waiting for your response.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with desire. “I-I can take it.”

He answered you by slipping, not one, but two fingers into you without warning. The sound you let out was filthy, almost primal, a mix of a moan and a gasp that reverberated through the room. The unexpected intrusion drove you crazy, making it impossible to hold back your reactions as his fingers started to move inside you, stretching and filling you in a way that had your toes curling.

“God, you’re so tight,” Spencer sighed, his lips brushing against your ear. He could feel your walls clenching around him, contracting in response every time he thrust his fingers into you. It drove him wild. It consumed his mind. He couldn't believe he was the one making you feel this way.

If you were wet before, you were absolutely drenched now. Your arousal stained his skin, and it amazed him how it didn't seem to stop. The liquid seemed to intensify, becoming the only noise in the room—a slick, wet sound that echoed softly as he started a faster pace, curling his fingers inside you.

You felt the pressure building, a tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your lower stomach. Every curl of his fingers, every stroke against that perfect spot inside you, sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

“Spencer,” you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea. “I’m so close…”

He pulled your face closer to his, brushing his lips on your cheek. "Already?"

You nodded, unable to form words. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out, leaving a void that made you whimper in protest. But before you could voice your frustration, his hand came down sharply on your ass. The sudden slap made you wail, your jaw slacking open.

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You didn't know which surprised you more, his sudden withdrawal or the sharp sting of his slap. But both affected you like a storm suddenly breaking the calm, jolting your senses awake, heightening your senses.

With his hands still on you, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Have I proved you wrong yet?"

You could barely speak. Instead, you opted for a nod, hoping he’d understand your silent affirmation. But Spencer wanted more, he wanted to hear it. When your voice failed to form the words, his hand came down sharply again, a firm smack that made you gasp and arch your back.

"Not good enough," he said firmly. He then gripped your chin, turning your face to meet his gaze, forcing you to look directly into his eyes in this position. His hold was firm, his eyes intense. "Say it."

You opened your mouth, trying to form the words, but they came out as a soft whimper when you felt his fingers suddenly slipping into your cunt again. The stretch was even more delicious this time, intensifying the pleasure already floating in your veins, scattering your thoughts.

"Focus," he commanded, but how could you when he thrust his fingers into you at a mind-blowing speed? Each thrust seemed to demand an answer, it was as if he was using your own body against you, pushing you to the edge until the only thing you could think of was the control he had over you.

And it was working, because all you could focus on was him—his fingers pumping in and out of your slick cunt, the intense gaze in his eyes, the warmth of his breath against your lips. Everything around you seemed to blur and only he remained clear.

"Say it," he urged again. "Say that you were wrong."

You struggled to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak, but his hard gaze and the relentless motion of his fingers forced the words from you. "I-I was... wrong."

"Louder," he demanded, his fingers never faltering. "I can't hear you, baby, need you to talk to me."

You moaned, your body trembling with the need for release. "I-I wanna cum."

"Hold it," he said firmly. His fingers didn't relent, maintaining that perfect rhythm, pushing you further, harder. "Say it louder."

You clenched around him, trying desperately to hold back the orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. "I-I was wrong."

"I think you can do better than that."

You groaned. The pressure was too much and you fought to find your voice through the haze of pleasure. You could feel every ridge and curve of his fingers as they moved inside you, the friction building an unbearable heat that pooled low in your abdomen.

"I still can't hear you."

"I was wrong!" you cried out pathetically, your voice breaking with desperation. Your walls clamped around him, trying to draw him deeper as the slick, wet sounds of his movements filled your ears. You were drowning in the sensations, the tension inside you winding tighter and tighter. The world narrowed down to the feeling of his fingers inside you, the relentless pressure, the intense heat pooling in your core.

“Spencer, please,” your voice cracked, tears prickling down your cheeks again. You could taste the saltiness as you took a sharp intake of breath. "Please, please, please, please—"

"Now."

With that single word, the tension inside you snapped. A powerful surge of pleasure tore through you, starting at your core and radiating outward like a shockwave. Your vision blurred, and your entire body convulsed as the orgasm overwhelmed your senses. You cried out his name, and your muscles contracted around his fingers, squeezing tightly as the sensations spiraled out of control. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful.

Your skin felt electric. Your heart pounded in your chest. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you rode out the peak of your climax, hips bucked against his hand while his fingers continued their relentless pace, drawing out your orgasm, making it last longer than you thought possible. The intensity left you trembling, your body spent and your mind unable to process anything other than the overwhelming pleasure.

You finally collapsed against him moments later, your body limp and your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The intensity of your orgasm left you feeling both weightless and heavy as if all the strength had been drawn out of you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, your smaller frame draping effortlessly over his.

And this time, Spencer shouldn't be laughing, but he couldn't help himself. His chuckle was soft and warm, a sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest and into your body as you lay against him. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but you could sense his amusement.

"If I had any strength," you muttered, sinking into him. "I'd hit you so hard right now."

He laughed again, this time a bit louder. "Well, it's a good thing you're too worn out to try.”

"Don't get used to it," you warned, though there was no real threat in your tone.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But I do enjoy seeing you like this."

You nuzzled closer to him, feeling the exhaustion beginning to set in. Your eyelids grew heavy as you muttered, "Just don't forget who’s really in charge in this relationship."

"I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m—“ you stopped as a yawn suddenly hit you. “I’m… the dominant one here.”

"Sure, you are," he teased gently, stroking your hair as you settled comfortably against him, a smile playing on his lips.

“I… mean it.”

“Of course. You’re always in charge.”

You nodded sleepily. “And I’m… still going... to… hit you… later…”

He rested his head on top of yours, letting your body fully relax into his. “I look forward to it.”

With a final, contented sigh, you let yourself drift off on his lap, the sound of his steady heartbeat lulling you into the most peaceful sleep.

[disneyprincemuke]

best dress * fem!driver

when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver

warnings: none

notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> the aftermath

she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.

she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.

“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”

she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.

“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”

lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”

“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”

“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”

“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”

“exploring the city!”

“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”

“you’re exploring the city in heels?”

she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”

“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”

“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”

lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”

“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”

“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”

“oh, i s-“

“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”

“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.

“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“

“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”

“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.

“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”

max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”

oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?

“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”

“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”

though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”

but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”

“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”

“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”

“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”

lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.

lando slouches. “why not?”

“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”

george tilts his head. “what?”

oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”

“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”

“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.

after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.

“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”

“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.

the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.

george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”

“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”

once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.

“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”

“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”

george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”

oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”

“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”

they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.

they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”

“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”

“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”

max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.

“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.

to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”

george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”

“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”

“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”

“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”

“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.

“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”

“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”

“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”

the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”

“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”

max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”

“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”

oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”

max shrugs. “i guess.”

sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”

“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”

logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”

“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”

she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”

max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”

“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”

“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”

sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”

“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”

“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”

“i don’t believe you!”

“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.

max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”

“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”

“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”

oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”

“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”

“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”

“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”

she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”

sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”

“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”

her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”

oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”

“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.

“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife

[onlygarden]

[can i watch?] - park sunghoon

genre: smut, some fluff

description: when your boyfriend walks into the bathroom just before you're about to shave your intimate parts, he decides he needs to watch you.

sunghoon x female reader, unprotected sex, shower sex, dom sunghoon, sunghoon is down bad for reader and can barely control himself lmao (he's so cutie), sunghoon is a little rough 18+

a/n: i got this idea suddenly while i was shaving in the shower hehe i neeeeeded to bring it to life i hope u guys get me

you step into the humidity of the shower, the steam enveloping you and filling your pores. your body immediately warms. you allow yourself to fully relax as the hot water glides soothingly along your body. after washing up, your mind is plagued with the reminder of needing to shave, already feeling annoyed by the tedious task. didn’t i just shave not too long ago? why does body hair have to grow so fast? you think pointlessly to yourself. 

the sound of the bathroom door opening reaches your ears, and you peek around the shower curtain to see sunghoon brushing his teeth. he notices you, and immediately bites back a smile. 

“you’re gonna get water all over the rug, idiot,” he teases, the sound of his voice being muffled by his toothbrush making you giggle. 

you playfully scowl. “the curtain’s hardly open, idiot,” you respond, “and you’re gonna get toothpaste all over the floor if you keep trying to talk with a toothbrush in your mouth,” you jest. sunghoon laughs immediately, your playful smirk stretching into a wide smile following his infectious laughter. 

you close the curtain, and you can hear the subtle sounds of your boyfriend rinsing his mouth. a sudden, dramatic sigh travels through the bathroom. 

“why does it take you an eternity to shower?” he pokes jokingly. “are you not done already?” the shower curtain is promptly yanked open to allow your boyfriend enough space to point to his wrist playfully, signaling for you to hurry up. 

you can’t conceal your surprise at his sudden action, but you break into a fit of laughter at his silliness, pushing his body away and shutting the curtain. “you’re scum,” you tell him, as you continue to laugh. “don’t you have any manners?” when he begins speaking you can tell by the volume of his voice that he’s still close to the curtain. “after fucking you senseless so many times i figured you were cool with me seeing you naked,” he digs, anticipating your reaction with a smile on his face.

you peek your head outside of the shower once again, greeting sunghoon with repeated smacks to his chest before returning to the flow of warm water. sunghoon stumbles back a bit, letting out an ‘ah’ through his laughter as your hand thumped against him. 

 “what else do you even need to do? haven’t you finished washing up by now?” sunghoon asks from the other side of the curtain. how cute is he, getting impatient as your time in the shower interrupts your time with him. 

“i’ll be done soon, i just need to finish shaving,” you tell him, completely oblivious to the idea that appeared unexpectedly in your boyfriend’s mind. 

“can i watch?” he asks, an ill-fitting casual tone lacing his brazen words. 

what?

you’re wildly flustered by his sudden request. 

“why would you want to? i promise it’s not anything special,” you tell him, confused as to why he’d want to watch you do such a simple thing in the first place. he was probably expecting your intimate parts to be put on an alluring display, but it’s not like you ever looked irresistibly attractive while you shaved. 

“please just let me watch, i’ve always been curious about it,” he pleads, his hopes of convincing you to comply with his request resting in the sky. “anything you do is special. and sexy.” 

gosh. you sigh. how were you supposed to resist your precious boyfriend when he asked you like that? his curiosity towards the way you complete such a mundane function seemed genuine, anyway. 

you comply, although you make him understand the conditions of his request. 

“fine. but it won’t be sexy, just so you know. i’m just gonna shave in the same unflattering position that i always do.” 

sunghoon flings the shower curtain aside with excitement, looking directly into your eyes with a faint smirk dusting his features. god, he’s so attractive, you thought. you could just melt into a puddle under his gaze. 

“do i have to remind you that you’re always sexy, even when you aren’t trying to look sexy?” 

a wide smile crawls across your face, your lips utterly betraying you, and you bite your lip to prevent it from growing any further. “shut up,” you say, turning around to grab your razor, then sitting down with your back resting against the wall of the shower. 

sunghoon leans his shoulder against the wall near the shower, crossing his arms over his chest. his intense stare almost made you uncomfortable, but you remember his undeniable desire to watch you do this, and his enthusiasm assists you in relaxing. he was your boyfriend, after all. you were always candid around him. he’s seen you do everything, whether you felt attractive or not. 

you separate your legs, completely exposing the most intimate part of yourself in such a natural setting. sunghoon inhales sharply. 

you look up at him, noticing the sudden heaviness of his expression, his features tugged down by such a tempting display. his eyelids were notably lax. is he already starting to get turned on? 

upon noticing your gaze, his stare travels from your unshaven pussy to your eyes. 

“you ready for the show?” you joke, relieving a bit of the tension. i’ll end up hurting myself if i get turned on, too. sunghoon smiles a bit. “i’m stoked,” he replies with the same friskiness. 

you slightly adjust the way you were sitting to give yourself a proper view of each spot that needed your razor’s attention. you begin gliding the razor across the sensitive skin attentively, using your fingers to spread yourself as you needed. sunghoon’s eyes were stubbornly locked onto the scene in front of him. 

the way your fingers moved across your pussy, although you weren’t trying to pleasure yourself it still drove him insane. blood began rushing to his cock and the speed of his breathing steadily increased. he throbbed in his sweatpants. you enthralled him. he almost couldn’t take it. why would he ask to be tortured like this? idly watching you, pussy exposed, as you casually glided the razor and your fingers across your delicate skin. 

god he was so turned on. he struggled to contain his predatory cravings while you carefully shaved yourself, since he didn’t want you to end up getting hurt. still, he needed you painfully. 

“babe, finish up,” sunghoon suddenly says, voice deep and breathless. your pussy throbbed a bit at the desperation in his voice, and with the way you were fully exposed before him, you know he must’ve noticed it. 

“i’m almost done, baby. just one more thing,” you say tenderly. 

his awestricken gaze remains attached to you as you suddenly stand up. he impatiently slips off his shirt, wanting to be ready to latch onto you when you’re finally finished. 

you turn your body around, sunghoon’s eyes immediately traveling the expanse of your bare shoulders, moving to the curves of your waist, and utterly basking in the plumpness of your lovely behind. your skin burned as you could feel his intense stare. 

although you were never uneasy around sunghoon, what you were about to do next made you a bit too bashful to face him. 

you spread your ass apart to shave the space in between, wanting to make sure all your intimate parts were perfectly smooth. sunghoon’s mouth falls open slightly in astonishment, and he exhales heavily, eyes fluttering in a faint manner. did you enjoy torturing him? 

hearing his reaction, you’re quite surprised that he actually found your actions sexy, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. 

sunghoon was so aroused he felt like he could explode. the fight against his inner desire to touch you is increasing rapidly in difficulty. he quickly removes his sweatpants and boxers, his painfully solid cock springing free, already dripping in anticipation of being sheathed inside your heavenly pussy. 

you rinse your razor off underneath the stream of the shower, and you quickly rinse your body to rid yourself of any tiny loose hairs. 

“all done,” you say, turning to look at sunghoon, the unobstructed sight of his naked body sending heat across your skin. 

he quickly joins you in the shower, shutting the curtain behind him and grabbing your hips with fervor. he pulls you towards him until his cock is poking at your stomach, and he walks forward until you thud against the shower wall. your hands reach his chest, gliding across the skin until they rest upon his shoulders. 

“you looked so fucking sexy doing that,” his hands begin to tighten around your hips as if he was starving, and you were the meal he was aching to devour. “it was so hard to stop myself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you until can barely speak,” he connects his lips with yours before you can even react to his crude words, and you can immediately feel the fierce, greedy arousal that had been welling up inside him. 

he shoves his tongue into your mouth, too hungry to play the slow and gentle game with you. he felt like he could burst at the seams. 

his hand moves from your hips to your pussy, his middle finger sliding eagerly between your folds, exploring and inspecting you to check if you were ready to take him. he just couldn’t take it. he’d never felt so impatient about anything in his life. 

he breathes out as you moan quietly into his mouth, your voice breaking and your volume suddenly increasing as he shoves his middle finger inside of you with haste. you grip the space between his neck and shoulder in desperation. 

he pulls his face away from yours to watch your features contort as he pumps his middle finger slowly inside of you. 

“you really this wet just from me looking at you?” his palm makes repeated contact with your clit, and his finger persistently skates along the spongy patch inside of you.  

“should i stretch you out some more? hm?” he asks, not truly expecting an answer. his ring finger glides directly beside his other digit, and his pumping grows rapid once both fingers are fully enveloped by your warmth. 

grabbing the back of your thigh, he pushes your leg up to gain a more generous angle. he admired as your pussy laid on display, just for him. just how he wanted it to be. 

your eyes nearly flutter shut, your face twitching in bliss as his fingers move in and out of you at a swift pace. his palm made contact with your clit each time his fingers rammed inside of you, and the way he stared menacingly into your eyes as he forced you open on his fingers entirely overwhelmed you. your eyes already burned with tears from the pleasure sunghoon piled onto you. 

he smirked down at you. how cute, he thought. 

“aw baby, are you already crying for me?” his fingers don’t falter as he speaks to you condescendingly. 

“is my cock gonna be too much for you?” you shake your head urgently, sunghoon’s skilled fingers sending your mind to an unimaginable state, beyond delirious. sunghoon lets out a satisfied chuckle before he speaks again. 

“i know it’s not. you’re just gonna take it however i give it to you.” as his words fall out of his mouth menacingly, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dizzy and empty before lowering your leg. sunghoon already waited enough. he needed to be inside you. 

“turn around,” he says bluntly. you quickly oblige, never daring to question a request during sex with sunghoon. 

your hands rest against the slippery shower wall, and you feel sunghoon’s hands upon your hips again, pulling them back until he’s pleased with your position. twinged with desire for you, sunghoon’s hands find your ass and he spreads it apart, smacking it. how relieving was it that he could finally touch you the way he desperately wanted to as he watched you moments before. 

sunghoon kisses your back, causing you to twitch. his lips move to the side of your neck before grazing your ear, his nose sniffing your hair. he was intoxicated by everything about you. 

“need to know you’re ready for me,” he whispers, waiting for your approval before letting his impulses take control of him. 

“i’m ready, sunghoon.” you announce gently.

his length, unimaginably stiff with need, rams into you abruptly to the hilt. sunghoon takes a moment to revel in the fact that he’s finally surrounded by your pussy. your warm silky pussy was hugging him so snugly, and he’s never felt more compelled by anything in his entire lifetime. 

he starts ramming into you, punishing your insides with the ferocity and speed of his hips. his grip on your hips tightens to a painful measure, his nails digging into your skin, showing you just how hungrily he longed to bury himself into you, just how deprived he was of the pleasure you provided him with.

“hoon, slow down! too fast!” you moan out, barely finding the ability to speak due to the way he relentlessly tore through you. 

he continued the way he torturously snapped into you, not changing the way his hips moved in the slightest.

“you know i can’t, baby,” he breathes out, “just be a good girl and take it for me, like you always do.” as he continues his harsh dealing of your body, your moans begin to sound more like sobs. 

god, he was obsessed with it. 

“it’s ok baby, fuck, i know you can do it.” sunghoon was in bliss. there was no way he could stop now, especially when he knew you could handle it. sunghoon knows you well enough to recognize when you’re at your limit, and you still had more to give him.

“ah, fuck, you feel so fucking good baby.” sunghoon groans, using one hand to brace himself against the shower wall. you were absolutely falling apart underneath him. 

“so soft, so pretty for me,” he tells you, his brows furrowing as he surrenders himself entirely to your pleasure. he moves to attach his lips to your neck, and your mouth gapes open, your cries now struggling to leave your throat. 

“close, sunghoon,” you manage to tell him, and the way your name falls off his lips along with the uncontrollable moans you let out leaves him dazed. 

“oh god baby, me too,” he says, his voice strained. he returns his lips to your neck, breathy groans leaving him as he grows closer to spilling inside of you. 

his hand that rested on your hip glides along your stomach and down to your clit, rubbing rapid circles causing you to shove your hips back towards him. his lips detach from your neck as he moans deeply. you grab his forearm, pleading with him to take it easier on you, but he continues regardless. 

you cuss and stutter out sunghoon’s name as you cum, your body curling forward slightly, utterly overwhelmed by the blinding waves of pleasure coursing through you. you barely register sunghoon’s chants of “that’s it, baby,” as your eyes flutter and roll back, your body trying to handle the orgasm that sunghoon just gave you. 

the way your body shook and your pussy spasmed around his cock made sunghoon squeeze your hip brutally as he groaned, closing his eyes. he spilled inside you, his mouth falling open as deep, breathy moans fell from his lips in slow succession, the pace of his hips slowing to a complete stop. he furrowed his brows, astonished by the high that only you could give rise to.

he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burrowing his face into your neck as the both of you recovered. the feeling of his breath against your neck sent chills fiercely coursing through you. 

“god, you’re amazing,” he mumbles into your neck, placing his parted lips on the moist skin softly, his breath still hitting your neck with the wispiness of a feather. you smile, turning to glance back at him as his head lifts from the refuge of your skin. 

he pulls his length out of you slowly, now drenched in your essence having just been plunged inside of you. his length gradually leaves you empty as your pussy returns to it’s normal size, reminding you just how much he stretched you out. 

he turns your body around, moving his hands fondly along the curve of your waist, fingers satisfied by the smoothness of the trail they traveled. he pauses when he notices the prominent nail marks and bruises around your hips. you can recall the way he heedlessly attacked your hips while drilling into you, but you weren’t burdened by it at all. 

he frowns and shifts his eyes to meet yours. “i’m really sorry, baby, i didn’t realize,” he says regretfully. “are you hurt?” he asks with concern, hoping for a certain answer. the endless domain of his shiny brown eyes makes you melt, your adoration for him swelling within you. 

you smile a bit, shaking your head to convey your lighthearted perception of his actions. “hoon, i’m fine. it didn’t bother me one bit,” you assure him, pinching his cheek. 

his expression flips with a bright cheekiness at your admission. “yea, i could tell,” he pokes, beginning to dramatically mimic the sounds of your pleasured cries from moments ago. 

you gasp, lifting your fist to bash the side of it into his chest repeatedly. sunghoon laughs, his embarrassing mockery of you stopping as you began your onslaught. you push his giggling body off of you and pout in jest. you move past him to step towards the warm water, rinsing your sweaty body. 

you feel his hands drifting across your body again as he sweetly says, “here, let me wash you up.”

[sescoups]

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You��re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 12

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Trying to get back into these two. Did we miss them?

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: 2600+

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So…” Jake pauses and purses his lips to suppress a mischievous smile. “When did you start liking me?”

You look down at your lap where his head has been resting for the last five minutes. “Did I tell you I like you?”

Jake meets your gaze and snorts. He reaches up to take your hand off the keyboard of your laptop and brings it down over his chest. “Indirectly,” he admits.

You roll your eyes, recalling when you had expressed to Bradley – in Jake’s presence – how ‘your guy’ makes you feel. You pull your hand out of his grasp and look back up at the screen in front of you. “I have to work, Jake.”

“You’re too hardworking,” Jake responds with a whine.

You shake your head with a grin. “Such a dreadful habit, I know. I’m working on it – wait. Damn, I see what you mean –”

Jake starts chuckling and his head tickles your bare thighs. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You press your lips together as your smile broadens. “When did you start liking me?” you ask.

Jake releases a heavy sigh and sits up. “Alright, enough chitchat. Get to work.”

You watch him rise to his feet and make his way into the kitchen, curious why he so abruptly decided to change the subject. “Got any plans this weekend?” you ask casually, wondering if he’ll finally ask you out on a date. The two of you have been sneaking around for a while, but your only outings together have been with Bradley, so you couldn’t even hold hands. Thus far, you’ve assumed that Jake is just waiting for the right moment to speak with Bradley before the two of you make your relationship official but, as time goes on, you become increasingly skeptical that Jake actually intends to come clean.

Jake shrugs. “Not really. Just hangin’ with your bro.”

You try your best not to frown. “Sounds fun.”

Jake walks back over to you and sets a bowl of strawberries on the table by your laptop. You glance up at him inquisitively and he responds with, “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

You give him a smile. “Neither have you.”

He nods. “Which is how I know you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” you say. “As soon as I’m through with this part, I’ll move all this shit and we can have some lunch.” You gesture at the pile of literature currently cluttering your workspace.

Jake takes a seat adjacent to you at the table and lets out another sigh. “I don’t know,” he says.

You shift your gaze from your computer to look in his direction. “Don’t know what? If you want lunch?” You pick up a strawberry and pop it into your mouth.

Jake is observing you carefully and you stop chewing because the attention makes you uncomfortable. “I don’t know when…” he says, pausing as though he isn’t sure how to continue. “When, uh… I don’t know at what point” – he exhales sharply – “I have no clue when I f – when I started to see you as more than just Bradley’s sister. As more than a friend.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, your mouth still full of half-chewed strawberry.

“I think I just realized, at one point, that I’d rather spend time with you than with anyone else,” he admits.

You finish chewing awkwardly before responding with, “Huh.”

Jake stares at you expectantly, as though you should have something to add.

But you’re not really sure what to say. You’ve been crushing on Jake for an embarrassingly long time and he does not have clearance for that kind of classified intel, especially since his interest in you is far more recent. What does he want, anyway? A pat on the back for finally figuring it out?

“Your turn,” he says, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with an air of confidence.

You purse your lips as though you’re in thought. “Not sure,” you say vaguely.

Jake narrows his eyes. “Not sure? Or don’t want to say?”

You meet his gaze tentatively. “I probably liked you before you liked me.”

Jake watches you with a slight grin. “In that case, you were very good at hiding it.”

…

You arrive at the pub already slightly tipsy after pre-drinking at your friend’s house. In fact, you’re drunk enough to not give two shits that Jake has, once again, decided to spend his Saturday night with Bradley. This time, he didn’t even invite you along.

Once inside, you head straight for the bar; no sense in wasting time waiting for a table. You grab a drink and take a look around the crowded establishment. That’s when you see him.

Jake fucking Seresin is sitting at a table near the back – not with your brother. You stare at him – and his female companion – in horror for a few moments, letting the scene sink in. Wondering if you’re in the wrong for being shocked. Are the two of you even exclusive? This has never actually been discussed. But one thing is certain: Jake lied, which makes you sick to your stomach.

You slide off your barstool and, cocktail in hand, you make your way to the little table in the back where your supposed boyfriend – or whatever he is – sits entertaining another woman. It’s not long before Jake notices your presence because you’re making quite a spectacle on your way over as you furiously skirt every person in your path.

Jake looks uncomfortable and that satisfies you greatly. “Hey,” he says when you arrive.

You gape at him. “Hey?” you exclaim in outrage.

“Uh,” Jake stalls for a moment. He turns to his date and says, “This is Bradley’s sister.”

The woman opposite Jake smiles at you but you’re too busy glaring at Jake to acknowledge her. “That’s all you want to say about me?”

Jake watches you pointedly. “What else do you want me to say about you?” He looks back at his date and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Seresin?” you shriek, slamming your stemmed glass onto their table so aggressively that your sour apple martini splashes over the rim.

Jake jerks back to avoid getting wet and then looks up at you in alarm. “What’s the matter with you?”

You shake your head at him in disappointment and then turn abruptly to leave. You expect Jake to grab your hand, or follow you out, but he does neither. In fact, you make it all the way back to the bar before you realize that Jake is not even looking in your direction. You see him laughing together with his female friend, as though they both just witnessed something absurd and worthy of repeating in the future for a good chuckle.

“Hey, isn’t that your brother’s aviator buddy?” your friend says, nodding toward the back of the pub.

You roll your eyes and then turn toward the bar, realizing you left your drink at Jake’s table.

“He’s kind of hot,” you friend continues. “But he’s got fuckboy written all over him.”

You close your eyes and sigh. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You know Jake. What in the world made you think he would become a different person if he were with you?

…

The following day, you wake up past noon with a debilitating migraine. You hear Bradley and Jake’s voices drift up from the kitchen and groan. You’re not in the mood to face Jake after the events of the previous evening. You ended up going home shortly after confronting him and you have no idea where he ended up. Probably in bed, and probably not alone.

You get dressed unhurriedly, dizzy from the pain and, on your way downstairs, you grip the banister tightly just in case. The kitchen is excruciatingly bright, and you cringe upon entering, shielding your face from the open window like a vampire.

“Oh, hey sleepyhead!” your brother greets you.

You grunt in response and head straight for the coffee pot. “Is this fresh?” you ask.

“Nope!” Bradley replies cheerily.

You pour yourself a mug anyway and put it in the microwave, turning to face the two of them while your coffee warms.

Jake meets your gaze with a stoic expression.

“How was your night?” Bradley asks with a grin, clearly seeing that you’re hungover.

“Fine,” you say monotonously.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “It’s the enthusiasm for me,” he says with a smirk, looking over at Jake.

Jake, however, ignores him and grabs his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “You ’bout ready, Bradshaw? I ain’t got all day.”

“Alright, alright,” Bradley says. “Let me get my stuff.”

Bradley jogs over to the staircase and runs up to grab his duffel bag. Meanwhile, you are deliberately avoiding Jake’s gaze as you lean your back into the kitchen counter. Jake stuffs his hands into his pockets and is also not looking at you. When Bradley returns a few minutes later, disrupting the silence with a melodic whistling, the two of you have not moved an inch from where you’d been standing when he left. Even though the microwave has beeped at you twice.

“What’s with you two?” he asks, pausing in the doorway.

“Nothing,” Jake responds curtly. “Let’s go.”

Bradley glances between the two of you. “Okay,” he says slowly, his gaze lingering on you in particular. “See you later, sis,” he says.

You wave a distracted hand in his direction and head for the couch with your coffee, nearly bumping into Jake as you cross paths because neither of you is looking at the other.

“Sorry,” Jake mutters, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand goes up instinctively to guide you but he catches himself before letting it rest on your arm.

“It’s fine,” you say, wavering slightly on the spot. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and press a couple of fingers into your temple.

“You okay?” he asks, his eyebrows converging as he tries to catch your gaze.

“I said I’m fine.” You sigh, trying to walk around him.

“Seresin, you coming, or what?” Bradley calls from the foyer.

Jake hesitates as you finally pass him, and then yells back. “I’ll meet you there!”

Bradley waits a moment as though he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. Then you hear the front door open and Bradley shout, “Don’t be late!” as he exits the house.

Jake trails after you into the living room and, when you lower yourself onto the couch, he crouches down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. “Migraine?” he asks.

You nod slowly so as not to exacerbate the pain.

Jake’s hand gives your leg a soft squeeze. “Have you eaten?”

You cringe. “Please don’t talk to me about food right now,” you beg.

“Did you take anything?”

You shake your head. “I’m out.”

Jake gets to his feet. “I’ll go pick up some meds for you,” he says.

You glance up at him miserably. “You’re going to be late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he responds, already on his way out.

…

Jake returns not ten minutes later with your medication and a bag full of snacks. “I heard dark chocolate is good for migraines,” he says, holding out a block for you as you swallow your pills.

“I’m not hungry, Jake,” you say weakly, closing your eyes and lying back down on the couch.

Jake sighs, sitting down on the floor beside you and starting to unwrap the chocolate. “You need to eat something,” he says, breaking off a piece. “I also have gummy worms and popcorn.”

You open your eyes. “I love gummy worms,” you whisper.

Jake grins. “I know,” he whispers back.

You take the chocolate square from his hand and he busies himself with opening the bag of gummy worms while you let the chocolate melt in your mouth. A moment later, he hands you a gummy worm and you stick it between your teeth and bite. “Oh my god, it’s so good,” you moan. The motion of chewing helps alleviate some of the pain in your temple and you sigh blissfully, closing your eyes.

Jake leans his back into the wall adjacent the couch and pops a gummy worm into his mouth. For a while, the two of you sit in silence. Then, he says, “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you say.

Jake shakes his head and you can sense his irritation without even looking at him. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”

You turn to give him a flat look. “Would you trust you, Seresin?”

Jake squares his jaw. “I have never given you a reason not to trust me.”

“You lied to me! You said you were meeting Bradley!”

“I was! He was running late.”

You watch him sourly. “And you just happened to pick up a girl while you were waiting?”

Jake returns your bitter glare. “Is that actually what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” you say, sitting upright to look him in the eye. “You weren't exactly forthcoming with an explanation.”

Jake sets the gummy worms on the couch and gets to his feet. “The girl was there for Bradley. He was running late. End of story.”

“You couldn’t tell me that yesterday?”

“She’s seeing Bradley! And he doesn’t know about us. It’s not like I can say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m actually dating your boyfriend’s little sister and that’s why she’s acting like a nutcase. Brb.’”

You fold your arms, sulking. Did you consider the possibility that the woman Jake was sitting with wasn’t his date? Briefly. But you were already annoyed with Jake and that, combined with your less than sober state, was apparently a recipe for disaster. “I guess I don’t trust you,” you say with a shrug, even though this statement isn’t altogether true.

Jake places his hands on his hips, exhaling slowly. “Why?” he asks, sounding exasperated.

You stay silent and continue to brood.

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces as though this conversation is wearing him out. Then, he lets out another sigh and crouches before you again, trying to catch your gaze as he places his hands in your lap, palms up. “Why?” he asks calmly, waiting for you to join hands with him.

You do. “Well, why would I?” you say quietly, hesitating before you continue. “What is this, even? What are we? Do you know? Because I don’t.”

Jake’s eyebrows knit together. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, why haven’t you told Bradley yet? Is it because you’re not sure you want to make this official? Is it because it’s just a fling so why bother?” You cringe inwardly, hating how insecure you sound.

Jake stares at you in wonder, as though this line of thinking has never even crossed his mind.

“Like, are we even exclusive?”

Jake’s eyes widen and he blinks at you in awe. “We fucking better be,” he retorts, his hold on your hands tightening slightly.

“Well, how would I know that?” you exclaim.

Jake brings his hands up to his face and rubs his eyes. “Jesus fuck, how would you not know that?”

You scoff at him. “Because you’ve never once been in an exclusive relationship! Not while I’ve known you, anyway. Do you even know how?”

Jake’s hands slide down his face and stay over his mouth as he gapes at you. When his hands finally drop back into your lap, you can see that he’s got a small smile on his face. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says finally.

You lower your gaze, not exactly comforted considering he still has not addressed your main concern: Bradley.

Jake stands up and pulls you up off the couch. He puts his arms around you and you rest your head against one of his giant shoulders, allowing him to cradle you lovingly.

“Why haven’t you told Bradley?” you mutter into his shirt.

Jake pulls away from you and runs a hand through his hair uneasily. “I’m scared, Baby B,” he admits. “I’m scared he’s gonna make me choose.”

Read Part 13

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[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight��”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[xazse]

where is the satosugu merman au? 😞

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ GLOWING ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Merman Gojo! x Merman Geto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Size difference + hermaphrodite!Satoru/Suguru: meaning they have a “vagina and a cock” + Virgin!SatoSugu + Lots of plot holes tbh + Fem!Reader + smut + dom!reader + blood + typos and not proofread

Notes: tell me I cooked cmon now, I realize that this might not be some of you guys cup of tea and that’s perfectly okay!, yk I feel like my works could be way better if I had a proofreader I’ll look for one soon, enjoy! I LOST THE LAST PART SO I CHANGED IT

Merman Gojo and Geto who were swimming dangerously close to the shore, they know they aren’t allowed that close but their curiosity was killing them, they’ve found this little area that humans aren’t aware of yet so they decide this is the place they decide is theirs, it’s a nice rock with some land behind it, the small piece of land is hidden behind the thick trees, they come to lay against the rock and enjoy its warm surface, and it’s a nice place to get away from everyone to enjoy the company of each other.

Merman Gojo and Geto who come to their place again and are met with a little human on their rock (you are small compared to them). You’re huddled up in a ball facing away from them, to be honest this is their first time seeing one up so close, gojo looks at geto mentally talking about what their next move should be, it should be to go back as to not be seen but their curiosity is killing them once again, so they take a risk and slowly approach the rock.

You whip your head around to the sloshing of the water and find nothing, but something out of the corner of your eye has you looking down and finding two men looking up at you with two big eyes. You’re very startled of course you are, you center yourself on the rock away from them. They haven’t said anything which freaks you out even more and looking at them more closely you realize they’re extremely pretty but also a little weird? It’s their ears, they’re flared like? Like something out of a book. You should be screaming and running away but something in you makes you grab a little broken piece of rock, and throw it at the white haired one.

“Ow?!?” The snow haired one is quick the grab the place where the rock landed and soothe it, his forehead. The black haired one hisses at you and turns his attention towards his partner, also attempting to soothe him.

Ah’sorry, but you had it coming you startled me”

They both look up at you, glares decorating their faces, but they also look offended at the mere audacity of your words and tone. You pick up another little rock and hold it in a way like you're gonna throw it, you aren't but right now you prefer to be left alone, seeing no need to converse with whatever they are. They both swim back a little and through the water you get a glimpse of their bodies. A mermaid?

Before you get the chance to see if your eyes are deceiving you they turn tail and swim deep underwater, the shininess of their tails slowly disappearing in the dark depths of the water.

The next day you're in their spot again, aren't humans supposed to be afraid of what they can't understand? So why are you here even after seeing them, Suguru had even hissed at you: that usually works against the smaller merman's and mermaids to get them to behave or go away. Such a small thing like yourself had managed to make them run away and they weren't okay with that. You even had the audacity to throw something at him? Who the hell did you think you were? Yaga has told them countless times that humans were selfish beings who constantly take and never give back. That they should stay as far away as possible but they find themselves a little curious about you in particular, they could literally kill you and leave no evidence behind should you provoke them further.

It was just going to be Satoru today, Suguru has decided he wanted nothing to do with you and insisted Sator to stay away as well, lest something bad happens to him, He had assured him that he was strong and could definitely fight if need be. Suguru thought about your build for a moment, you didn't look very fast so he trusted Satoru's word.

They both approach the rock slowly, sharp fingers gripping the boulder gently.

"It's you two again." You look visibly displeased, you make a shooing motion with your hand hoping they'll leave.

"This was our place first by the way, until you you came here, pesky little human" the black haired one says with so much spite in his voice it could kill, as well as his dark glare. "Well you weren't here to claim it when I was so...." "Not how it works" the white haired one exclaims in a matter of fact type tone.

"mmm... how about we share?" You offer and continue: "we could do like days, a type of schedule." "We don't want to share with the likes of you" it's the black haired one again.

You roll your eyes and continue to pick at the rock below your feet. Satoru stares at your face and body, his hand unconsciously makes its way towards your leg, you're quick to jump back further upon the rock. Weird, his hand felt weird around your leg.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm Satoru and this is Suguru"

These encounters happen even more, Satoru and Suguru find themselves in your company everyday, they find your quick and bold personality to be interesting.

You’ve allowed them to get closer to you on the boulder, you’d even let Satoru touch your thigh, he did go the whole nine yards and grab the fat in his hands. The entire time there was an unexplained look in his eyes, something dark. Suguru still hasn’t touched you yet simply because he’s still a little bit wary, you didn’t hold it against him and offered that whenever he wants he could, he seemed content with that.

It was just another day of relaxing in the sun and enjoying the sounds of the waves whooshing, creating a nice atmosphere.

“Would you try getting in the water with us?” You expected to be answering Satoru but to your surprise it was Suguru who was asking, his purple golden eyes staring up at you with that same weird expression Satoru possesses when he stares at you.

“I’m not properly dressed to swim” you answer, you turn your attention back to Satoru who’s absolutely reveling in how your soft hands are scratching his head, you think you can hear purring coming from him.

“Just swim without these” Suguru says while pulling at your shorts.

“I can’t exactly be nude around… well men”

“Why not? Ugh you humans and your weird customs”

“S’not weird Suguru” you continue and tilt your head thinking for a minute: “I could swim in my bra and underwear”

“What’s that?” Suguru deadpans

You giggle, of course they wouldn’t know they’re practically nude themselves.

“It wouldn’t hurt to paddle around for a little.” You get up off the boulder, with protests from Satoru for you to keep rubbing his head and walk off somewhere they can’t see you undress yourself. You come back shortly to the two adult men looking like puppies as they take in what you look like without that huge shirt you frequent. You sit on the boulder near the edge and dip your feet in: it’s warm.

Satoru is quick to grab at your waist and guide you into the water, he still holds even when you’re in the water. This feels weird and through the water you can see their pretty blue tail and purple tail, they’re really shiny. You get to look at them even closer, what the hell are they using on their face to make it so clear, they look like models, they’d make a fortune should they ever decide to walk on land.

Satoru pulls you to his torso and deeply inhales how you smell.

“All humans smell like this?” He asks and you shake your head, “we all have our own unique smell, some worse than others” Suguru leans in to also sniff at you, them being this close makes your stomach twist but not in fear, it’s something primal. You shift yourself out of Satoru’s grip and float freely on ur own.

“What are the females like, the mermaids?”

“Mmm… they’re pretty nice, though they tend to avoid us, as in us I mean Satoru” Suguru answers while side eyeing Satoru who rolls his eyes.

“Let me guess it’s because of his obnoxious personality?” You also spare a glance at Satoru who in turn huffs.

“They’re boring, too plain for someone like me” He puffs out his chest in an annoying manner. “Rightttt”

“And plus I have Suguru, I’ve no need for other companions!” Satoru’s huffs out with the brightest smile on his face and hugs him tightly, it’s hard for you to hold back the little giggle in your throat at just how much he adores him.

Satoru and Suguru have been once again getting curious about you, more curious than usual. They’ve been asking questions about everyday human life, how you guys swim but don’t have webbed feet like most sea animals, they ask about the food and you’ve brought them plenty of treats, Satoru enjoys the sweet things a little too much and Suguru enjoys salty savory things.

They’ve been touchy too, when you’ve had enough of the water and want a quick break, they’re quick to start feeling up your legs, Satoru had gone up sliding his fingers to up your thighs and without thinking he slips his finger in-between, he just barely grazed your pussy but just before he could go further you snap up and grab his wrist.

They both stop their ministrations to stare up at your face.

“Not so uhm- close Toru.’”

“Why? What is it? Did I hurt you?” He tenses up a little in your hold, his facial expression visibly distressed and you’re quick to shake your head aggressively.

You don’t know how to explain it, they both are grown men but you’re not sure if their species has sex, well clearly since they’re both here, they have to be reproducing somehow. But also they could be doing it in a different way, you’ve read all sorts of books on the different ways animals conceive to continue their lineage.

You’ll be blunt, and if they’re confused you can throughly explain it.

“It’s like, a sexual organ?” Gross, saying that out loud makes your body feel like it’s on fire.

Suguru is the first the burst out laughing, basically doubled over.

Satoru follows right after, tears in his eyes from just that statement alone, so they do know what it is just not on humans.

“We know what it is, we just didn’t know you humans had them as well or rather we don’t go into depth about what we have” Suguru explains after his laughing fit while Satoru nods along.

“So what do you guys have?” You question with a quirk of your eyebrow

Satoru’s long fingers grab and guide you back into the water.

“You really wanna see?” The devilish smirk on his face means he’s up to no good.

“Why do I have to see when you can just explain it?”

“It’s hard, we might use different words than you do, as well as a different language” Suguru quirks up, you’re a bit taken aback he’s not hitting satoru and telling him to quit teasing you.

You nod so easily, you feel a bit clouded and your cheeks feel warm. Satoru’s sharp fingers grab your wrist and guides it to the front of his tail, he lets you feel around until you discover a slit, you flit one finger inside and Satoru jumps a little, his grip on your wrist tightening down hard. It feels like you? Exactly how you’d feel when your knuckles deep in your cunt. You decide to test if it’s true, you start really slow when you’re pumping your fingers in and slightly out, he brings you into naked chest, completely smooshing your head and smothering you.

He’s shaking and whining but it’s barely audible, you’re truly so lost as the only thing you focus on is the movement of your digits, you’d think the way him and Suguru are so close they’d have done this before, they really do seem romantically involved but maybe you were wrong. He was just so cocky a moment ago perhaps it was a rouse to get you to touch him?

You’re a little ticked, they think you’re dumb, think you don’t know they’ve just been wanting to get touched. You wrap one of your arms around Satoru’s waist bringing his bottom even closer to you. You angle your arm downwards to find a spot, if you have a spot inside of you that pushes you over surely he’ll have one too. You can’t see from your position but Satorus lip is bitten red from trying to stifle the moans that are now slipping out.

His nails dig deep into your arm as a wanton moan comes from the deepest part of his throat, you press inside again and get the same reaction but a little more lewd. From then on you keep doing that over and over, and he’s a fucking mess, he’s whimpering about how weird this feels and he feels something coming.

Satoru has pleasured himself plenty of times but when he decides in this moment when it’s done by someone else it feels so much better, so much more pleasurable. He’s so worked up and you’re so focused you don’t notice how his cock has slipped out of the other slit, any attempt for you to touch that too dies on his tongue instantly.

Suguru is staring with need and a red flushed face, his body aches as he stares at Satoru’s expressions, you’re making him feel so good that he wants the same treatment.

Of course you haven’t forgot about poor Suguru, his long black hair cascading around his body as he avoids eye contact like the plague. You beckon him over when you manage to pull away from Satoru just a little. He listens well just like a puppy, you guide him behind you and take his much larger hand and press it to your underwear, motioning for him to pull them off. He does with a little bit of struggle successfully get them off.

You decide you don’t want prep, just want to hurry up so the poor man doesn’t feel left out. Suguru understands a little bit and takes his cock out, you once again guide him to your hole. He groans as he pushes inside, easily able to. It’s hot and he can feel you already squeezing down on him. He stills for a moment and buries his head in the crook of your neck. He can’t will himself to go as fast as he wants, just like Satoru he masterbaits his fair share but it takes him a while to actually cum, but right now he can already feel that familiar feeling in his gut.

You’ve stopped your ministrations on Satoru and he doesn’t like that one bit, he leans down a little and playfully takes the fat of your cheek in his mouth and lightly bites down, it’s a cute gesture of his jealousy.

You start up fingering him again, he sees that you aren’t going to pay attention to his cock so he begins stroking himself in tune with your fingers, and fuck he’s so close.

“Mmnh.. feels’ so good..” he sobs out the electrical thums through his body bit by bit, until his stomach contracts abruptly and he’s cumming in his hand and tightening around yours You slide your fingers out of his slit while he rests against you open mouthed panting.

You let Suguru continue to fuck into you, whilst he’s clawing and gripping deep marks into your skin. He shakes and shakes, his cock has never felt this good, is this what all humans feel like? Or just you specifically.

“M’ gonna cum, so badly…” “need to need to..” he repeats the mantra. He bites down on your skin, breaking the barrier just a little, revealing a little bit of blood that he laps up quickly, Satoru leans down to also taste the blood, pink tongues taking turns cleaning the wound.

It handn’t occurred to you that maybe little Suguru cum inside of you wasn’t a good idea. So you slowly push his cock backwards a bit and he whimpers so adorably, about to protest you start stroking him, quickly too. He’s cumming with a choke of air.

Your head starts to clear and you realize what you had just done, basically took one’s virginity and fingered the other one to completion, they both came but the point still stands! You’re quick to pull yourself up onto the rock, disturbing the two males who were basking in their afterglow and cuddling deep into your skin. They look confused as to why you got out, and panty-less: you leave for a moment to retrieve your shorts and shirt from on the beach and come back to them.

“You’re leaving?” Satoru questions quietly, you feel an arrow going right through your heart when you look at his sullen face, both of their sullen faces, clearly pouting and not wanting to let you go.

“No Satoru, it’s just getting a little late so I’m gonna head back home.” You wave giving them a soft smile and walk back the way you came, you don’t dare look back because you can feel their stares.

You do eventually come back a week later, you’ve been attempting to get your thoughts and mind to work functionally.

Satoru and Suguru aren’t there like they usually would be, you still hop up on the rock hoping they’d come, you can wait for a little.

They do eventually show up, tufts of White and black hair peek out, you can see the gleam in their eyes when they land on you.

“Finally, finally” Satoru exclaims while swimming towards you and immediately attempts reaching to grab that sweet snack he loves.

Suguru pulls him back and whispers something in his ear, Satoru pulls back away from you and glares daggers at you.

“You left us.” Suguru speaks up.

“I know, I’m extremely sorry, I brought snacks?” A nervous smile appears on your face as you hold up both their favorite treats.

“Treats? Do we look like pets that’ll bend over and accept that terrible apology?”

Satoru is halfway on the rock as you feed him to sweet treats, his cheeks becoming chubby as he hums in content. Damn bastard suguru thinks to himself.

You rub and ruffle Satoru’s hair as he preens and purrs at the affection: he’s so damn cute.

“Cmonnn Suguru.. you know you want it.” You emphasize by shaking the food. “I don’t want it.” He deadpans.

“Perhaps you want another treat?” You tug your pants and panties down as they watch entranced and already wanting.

Satoru quickly grabs a hold of your thighs, you place your hand ontop of his “Not yet Toru” he huffs in displeasure which makes you giggle lightly.

“I’ll let Suguru go first k?” Satoru nods but he clearly isn’t pleased he’d even share eating you out with suguru if it means he’ll get to taste you. Suguru begrudgingly swims towards you and pulls you closer towards his mouth, he isn’t showing it but he’s already growing hard.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LOVE EXPERT — NEUVILLETTE.

contents. established relationships, it’s literally just teaching neuvillette how to cuddle bc he doesn’t understand humans sobs :(, also idk how to write him yet. i apologize i tried my best. i’ll get it soon i swear

“come here,” you tug neuvillette by the arm, shuffling closer, “i want to try something.”

neuvillette, for all his brilliance, doesn’t understand human customs—you can’t help but find it hopelessly endearing.

he doesn’t understand the concept of bringing you flowers. you’ve never minded, never mentioned it until one day, lady furina teases that he’s never brought you so much as a single rose. he questions you that day, innocent and curious and just a bit confused, if it’s normal to gift flowers, if they mean anything special. so you chuckle, kissing between his brows as you explain to him. he brings you them regularly from then on.

one time, he notices a couple holding hands, eyeing their intertwined fingers and swinging arms—you watch in amusement as he studies them for a while, watch him simmer in his thoughts before you chuckle and grab his own hand, squeezing gently. he makes sure not to let go for the rest of the day, making a point to tangle your fingers and guide you through the city. you realize after that day that he’s probably never felt someone’s body so close to his—and you decide you’ll have to change that.

“what…what are you doing?” he asks, looking at you confused. for a second you think he might be uncomfortable, and then you realize he really doesn’t know.

he’s certainly the most unique man you’ve ever dated.

“i’m cuddling you, of course,” you grin, resting your head against his sturdy chest as your arm loops around his neck. he sits stiffly on the couch, as if it’s his chair in the court, as if he’s not here to relax.

“and that is…?” he raises an eyebrow.

you giggle, shaking your head as you lean up and kiss his cheek affectionately. he’s adorable—quite uninformed about romantic affairs, but adorable all the same. and he tries his best, just for you.

“we hold each other, like this—” you explain, taking his arm and wrapping it around yourself. you shuffle closer, pressed tightly against his body as your hand finds his chest, “—and it’s romantic.”

“i see,” he nods, “i think…i think i understand.”

you’re pretty sure he does not understand—you chuckle to yourself as his forehead is still covered with those crinkles from his furrowed brows, the gears in his head working to try and figure out what makes you crave this. and then you start to rub circles into his chest, and the tension melts instantly from his shoulders…and then he thinks he does understand.

“isn’t it nice?” you murmur, cheek pressed against where his heart is as his hand lays on your hip—it’s warm, he thinks. you’re warm, and you’re close, and he can feel your heart beating from being so near. “we get to just feel each other, you know? and not worry about anything else.”

“but…your worries won’t disappear simply by holding—”

“oh, neuvillette,” you huff, “you always take things so literally. just relax, would you?”

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely, as if he’s offended you by not understanding your cuddles. you look up at him fondly, cupping his cheek as you stroke a thumb over the soft skin.

“you don’t have to apologize, silly,” you peck his lips, trying to hold back the laugh that bubbles through your throat. and, if you’re not mistaken, you think there might just be a faint pout tugging at his corners of his mouth.

“now you’re laughing at me,” he frowns.

“i’m not,” you insist, smiling teasingly, “i just find you adorable, is all.” and then, as your head finds its way back to rest on him, you add, “it’s just nice to have someone close. to know they’re right here with you. does that make sense?”

“yes,” he smiles softly, “i suppose it does.” and then his hand starts to mimic yours, rubbing those slow, careful circles into your hip just like you do against his chest. “i enjoy having you close. your presence is comforting.”

“you’re catching on,” you tease, grinning brightly, “pretty soon you’ll be an expert at love.”

“i’m not so sure i’m quite there yet,” he chuckles, but his cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink.

you think you fall deeper in love right there—there are so many feelings neuvillette doesnt understand, but you’ll help him. slowly but surely, you’ll teach him by loving him in between every emotion so that it’s easier.

“i think you’re doing great,” you say softly, “i love you, y’know.”

he knows he understands this much for certain when he replies, “i as well, love you. very much.”

guys he’s literally just a weepy dragon are u kidding me we have to coddle him i accept nothing else

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Yes. No. I Don't Know.

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Use of the word 'dick', that's about it.

Tiniest bit of angst, he's just kinda cold, but mostly fluff

You couldn’t sleep. Try as you might, you could not fall asleep. It was nearly midnight already and you had to be up early for school. You decided to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower, figuring maybe the night air and watching the stars might make you tired enough to fall asleep. So you threw off your comforter and wrapped a jacket around you, sneaking out of your dorm and up to the tower. No one caught you and you ascended the stairs.

Much to your surprise, there was the school’s well known asshole, Mattheo Riddle, smoking on the balcony. It was hit or miss with you and him. Some days he was okay, at least, not insulting you. Other days, he wasn’t the most pleasant to be around. Either way, you always felt somewhat drawn into those beautiful brown eyes. Even on the days you wanted to snap back at him. He did seem to try to reign in his anger and attitude with you compared to everyone else you’ve seen him with. So you didn’t want to ruin it by yelling at him when he was a dick.

He turned his head to look at you, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. You could see fresh, new cuts and bruises on his face and knuckles. He got into a fight today.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked and you realized you hadn’t even said anything to him for a few seconds, just staring at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You answered and stepped up onto the balcony with him.

“So you came trotting up to the Astronomy Tower at what? Midnight?” He asked before taking a drag off of his cigarette.

“Figured I could come watch the stars for just a little bit. I thought maybe getting out would help tire me a little more so I can fall asleep once I get back to my dorm.” You said, turning to lean back against the railing as you looked at the stars.

“That’s stupid. And dangerous. What if there was someone here that would have hurt you?” He said, taking on a slightly annoyed tone.

“I have my wand. I’m not an idiot.” You said, looking back at him.

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing with you. “Still stupid.”

“Why do you care?” You asked, giving him a confused look.

“I don’t. I’m telling you it’s stupid. It’s like you don’t care about your safety.” He said as he looked back at you.

“I still don’t see why you care.” You said. “It’s not like you even like me at all.”

“Fine, forget it then. Do what you want.” He said, looking up at the stars as he took another drag of his cigarette. This gave you a perfect chance to look at his injuries.

“Another fight?” You asked, putting your hands in your jacket pockets.

“Possibly.” He said, exhaling the smoke.

“What caused it this time?” You asked before looking at the stars with him.

“Does it matter?”

“I’m curious.”

“Some guys were making disgusting comments about a girl. Wouldn’t stop when I told them to shut their mouths so I shut it for them.” He said, still looking at the stars, but he shifted slightly like he was uncomfortable.

“You stepped in to stand up for a girl?” You asked and looked back at him.

“Shut up.” He said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“You like this girl?”

He exhaled the cigarette smoke before answering. “Does that matter?”

“You know my answer already.”

He sighed. “Yes.” He said simply before putting out his cigarette on the railing and flicking it over the edge.

“Wow, Mattheo Riddle has a crush.” You smile at him.

“Oh, shut up.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Who is it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, looking down at his shoes as he shifted again.

“Oh, come on. This girl has to be special to catch your attention.” You said, still smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes again and turned his head away from you. “I said ‘It doesn’t matter.’”

“I thought we were friends, Matty.” You joked.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He said as he looked back at you.

“Just tell me who it is and I’ll stop.” You said with a sweet little smile.

He sighed again, looking up at the stars.

“You’re no fun.” You teased as you noticed he isn’t giving in, looking up at the stars with him again.

He stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at you, noticing your slight shiver. He looked away before taking off his hoodie and offering it to you. You looked at the hoodie confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes once again. “You’re shivering, put it on.”

“I’m not shivering.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I have a jacket already.”

“That’s the thinnest jacket I’ve ever seen.” And he was right, annoyingly.

“But you’ll be cold.”

“Put the damn hoodie on.” He said with a frustrated tone.

“Merlin, okay.” You said, taking the hoodie from him. You took off your jacket and put on his hoodie. It was so warm. And smelled like his cologne.

He leaned back against the railing as he looked at the stars again, not saying anything.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“Yeah.” Was all he said. But that was the first time he replied to any of the times you’ve said ‘thank you.’ You smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it. There was a small moment of silence between you two as you watched the stars.

“Can I get one hint about the girl?” You finally asked.

“Are you serious?” He looked at you and you looked at him.

“Come on. I wanna know. I won't tell anyone.” You said.

“Why can't you leave it?” He asked, annoyed.

“Please, Matty.” You said, trying to use your puppy eyes on him.

He clicked his tongue. “Can you stop calling me that?”

“Just tell me and I'll stop.”

“You're so annoying.” He said, sighing again.

“Yet you never do anything about it.” You smile slightly.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“What you normally do with everyone else and ignore them or leave or yell or something.” You said and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So you think I enjoy your annoying comments or something?”

“I didn't say that. But I think you do.” You smiled.

He rolled his eyes again, looking at the ground.

“Aw, you do actually like me.” You teased him.

“Shut up.” It was the third time he said this tonight, but it was the first time he blushed, even if it was extremely faint, almost wouldn't have been noticeable if you weren't staring at him already.

“Just tell me who the girl is.” You said, now leaning on him slightly to push him further.

“Why does it matter?” He asked, a bit harshly as he looked back at you.

“I just wanna know who captured your little heart.” You said with a sweet smile.

“You sure it's not because you have a crush on me?” He said sarcastically, but that made you nervous. It's not like you knew your own feelings yourself. You always felt drawn to him. You always liked being near him. Even when he did frustrate you. But he did frustrate you a lot. And he was always cold. And he pushed you away a lot. You didn't even notice your own hesitation until Mattheo raised his eyebrows. It made your face heat up. “Do you?”

Yes. “No!” I don't know. You straightened up so you weren't leaning on him anymore.

“Why'd you hesitate?” He asked, now turning his body towards you.

“I didn't.” You said, turning to him now too and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bullshit.”

“I'm not lying.”

“(Y/N).” He said, taking a step forward so he was directly in front of you, almost touching you.

“Matty.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why?”

He paused, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose before rolling his eyes and moving away from you, turning away.

“Why?” You repeat, moving with him, even though he only moved a few feet.

“It doesn't matter.” He said before turning back to you. “Just stop it.”

“No.” You said. You both were directly in front of each other again. “Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his hands on your cheeks. You froze for a moment before kissing back, moving your hands to grip at his shirt. He pulled back after a moment, but it still felt too short. You both stared at each other for a moment, neither letting go of the other.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“It was just to shut you up.”

“You're still holding me, though.” You pointed out.

“Yeah.” Was all he said as he kept staring at you, his eyes going all over your face; your eyes, your lips, your nose, anything and everything on your face.

“I lied. It wasn't a ‘no.’” You said as you did the same, looking all over his face too. It was the first time you were this close. But that kiss definitely made you realize your feelings.

He kept looking over your face for a moment before looking in your eyes and replying. “It was you. The girl. The one I like.”

You both stayed like that for another moment as you processed everything. He leaned down and kissed you again, much softer this time. It only lasted a moment, but this time it wasn't as hard when he pulled away, knowing that there were more of those kisses in the future.

“I like you, way more than I ever thought I would.” He admitted, still holding your face. “You can be annoying, but I like it. You're always so nice to me, even when I can be a dick and I love that and always feel so bad about it. But you don't understand how much that lifts my mood. And I love it when you call me ‘Matty.’”

“I knew you liked it.” You smiled.

“Shut up.” He said and kissed you again.

Let me know if I should make this into a long series rather than just this short one shot!