#WE JUST CALL HIM BROWN EYES OH GOD

[verpineshatterrifle]

oh if i dont watch it im going to start shipping din and mayfeld

[hoshigray]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ Do Your Job, Pretty Maid~! ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | jjk men

୨୧ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet maid takes care of them...or tries to.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference (true form! kuna) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - masturbation - threesome - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - sir/Master kink - sex toys - impact play (spanking) - degradation + humiliation - clitoral play - overstimulation - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - satoru + suguru's parts are combined.

word count: 5.2k

a. note: going on another trip for two weeks, so here's a lil present while I'm m.i.a :3

₊˚⊹♡ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - pussy-drunk! choso - sqůirtǐng - pet names (baby, cutie, sweetie).

“Choso, please—Mmm…! We mustn’t…”

“Shhh, not so loud, sweetie…”

You cover your quivering mouth with your hands, eyebrows kneading together with toes curled inside your loafers, and thoughts running rampant at the sight of your master’s head buried within your skirt.

You were supposed to be dressing your master for an event that he’s supposed to attend, and you were almost done making him presentable for the occasion, combing his silky brown hair–usually kept in pigtails–down to his nape and spraying him with his cologne before buttoning his white loose long-sleeve. 

However, he stopped your hands at the third button, the pale skin of his pectorals present to your eyes. Swiftly, you avert your gaze to his to see what’s wrong, only to yelp when he slumps to his knees and pulls you to him by your lower half, his face nestled to the groin of your skirt. 

Of course, you tried to pull him off. “Master Choso, this is not the time!” You lecture him, trying to yank him off without messing up the hair you put so much work into making it nice and tidy! But his arms wrap around your legs tightly, pulling you in further.

“No, I can’t,” you can see the hint of pink enflaming the helixes of his ears. “I need this…need you,” his face is pushed deeper into the crevice of your thighs, the material of your apron and skirt not a bother being an obstacle. “You smell so good…”

“Choso, please, you mustn’t,” your eyes dart to the door to make sure it’s closed – thank God! “You have to get ready for the—“ Your breath hitches when a pair of caramel eyes peer in your direction, half-lidded with intentions that are NOT suitable for this time and place.

“Please, baby,” Oh God, that fucking name he calls you. You chew your lips to repress a whimper. “Just for a few minutes, okay?”

You can only take his words for what they are — an unguaranteed promise to cling to while you sit on Choso’s armchair, mewls escaping past your lips as your master ravishes you inside your skirt. 

Choso’s soft lips kiss your wet folds, a shiver rattling your spine as you struggle to compose yourself. Your legs writhe and squirm, his slender hands playing with the garters of your undergarments and grasping the flesh of your thighs. His tongue nestles in between your inner labia, swooshing and slurping whatever his tastebuds can gather. And the groans he makes as he feasts on you are utterly dumbfounding — staggering your senses as his delightful voice travels through the walls of your insides. 

Fingers scrape the arms of the chair, and your mouth falls to an ‘o’ shape, yet nothing comes out besides silent wails. His tongue flicks around your clitoris feverishly before sucking on it, and your thighs fight to jerk and clamp his head in. The noises of his feasting get louder and louder, the heat on your face picking up with every lap from the flat of his wet muscle. 

“Master Choso…!” The named brunet pushes his tongue into your entrance, and you shrill with feet lifted from the floor. “Nnnm! Not too…fast!”

“Gonna cum, sweetie?�� He coos while lathering your cunt with his saliva. “Gonna be good and cum on my tongue, right?” 

“Hmmnn, no, not now!” You shake your head — not like he could see it from the barrier of your skirt. “We can’t! You have to be out there…people are waiti—Nnng!”

“I know, baby, I know,” another suck to your clit has your hands grab for the top of his head. “But cum for me this one time, ‘kay? Just one time…”

You couldn’t retort back as he pushed his tongue back inside, fucking you with the muscle to the point of balled fists. Losing balance, you slump on the chair and submit to the pleasure between your legs. Choso holds your legs by the back of your knees, pushing his face further to guzzle and play with your chasm easily. Ohhhh, shiiiit…!

“Ch-Choso, wait a minute!” You lift your skirt to stop the master, but the image of him eating you out did more bad than good. His jaw is wet from being latched to your soapy cunt, and his nose bumping to your clit forces you to twitch. “Wait, stop iiiit…!!” But it’s too late; your muscles contract more frequently than not and then begin to loosen once you hit your peak.

Your eyelids go shut, and you howl as your vagina flutters on Choso’s tongue while your urethra releases a watery substance that sprays around the vicinity of your skirt. Choso gets the better end; the clear liquid hits his face and sprinkles around your thighs and clothes. But that doesn’t stop him from sucking your essence, coating your vaginal walls and his tongue. He moans with you, your trembling figure bucking subtly while he gulps your high.

Mind is wholly fogged, yet your duties and responsibilities remain present, which is why you’re ashamed to see that the master is drenched from your arousal after you’ve put so much effort into making him look dapper — especially his hair, now it’s all messy and a bit wet! “Master, I told you to–ahhh–wait!”

Choso lifts his face and rests your legs on his shoulders, licking his lip and wiping his cheek with his sleeve — not the shirt, too! “Sorry, but you just tasted too good, cutie.”

You groan with a heavy sigh. “…Well, now I must grab a different shirt and fix your hair again. Hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”

“Guilty,” He doesn’t bother hiding the small, charming, cheeky smile; it almost made you forgive him for this endeavor.

₊˚⊹♡ Nanami Kento ⋮ sex toy; vibrator - oral (m! receiving) - masturbation - clitoral play - pet names (baby, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Shoko (phone call).

“…And that’s the report Ijichi handed regarding the last mission.”

“Good. What about from Gojo-san’s part?”

“Hmm, well, he hasn’t been…”

Was Nanami listening to the words Shoko was retelling? Sure. However, that wasn’t where his entire focus was. But then again, he has to ensure your voice isn’t picked up by his phone. After all, he’s sure you wouldn’t want his peer to know you were in the same room as him…thrusting a vibrator into your chasm while sitting on his desk.

You, his maid, came into his office to give him his typical afternoon tea, sprinkling the tea cup with warm water to exfoliate the earl grey and cream aroma. Nanami was busy on a call with Shoko, the doctor, who gave him updates on the missions that had occurred this week. A serious matter that required his attention, of course…well, most of it at least.

His eyes peer at you as you insert two sugar cubes into the tea cup and swirl them around with the spoon, noticing how eerily silent you are. How your fingers lightly tapped on the desk surface, and your lips shook slightly. And he knows why you hadn’t said a word; sure, he was on a call, but that’s not the half of it. The button he presses on the remote stuffed inside his pocket was, though, and your hand on the desk balls into a quick fist.

Now, you look to him, shaken by what he did. Trembly lips open to say, “Master…don’t do that��” 

The blonde man lifts his brows, ears deaf to what Shoko’s saying, and presses the button again. This time, your hands rush to your lips to suppress a yelp. Your thighs come together to rub against each other, a gesture that pulls a smile on Nanami’s face.

“…But that’s just typical Gojo fashion, ya know?”

“Honestly, I can’t agree more.” He says aimlessly, too observant with you in his view. “Hold on a second, Ierie-san.” He presses the mute button and crosses his arms. “What’s the matter, sweetpea?”

Knowing that you can finally speak, you whine freely while running to his chest for him to catch you. “Master, pleaseee…!” God, you can’t stop rubbing your thighs!

“What is it, love?” He brings your chin up. Good Lord, you looked so cute and desperate. “Tell me.”

“Please, can I take this off!?” You lift your skirt, and low and behold, your panties are out for display. However, the white wire from your undergarments connected to the clip-on on your garters catches the man’s eyes. “It’s too much…and I can’t work with it!”

He smirks at your complaint and rubs your cheeks. “Sit,” he points to the desk for you to sit on, and you hesitantly follow his orders. Nanami takes the mute off the call. “Sorry, Shoko, something came up on my end, and I gotta take care of it. See you tomorrow?”

“No problem, Kento. Talk to you later.”

Now, with his friend out the way, you can finally have his whole mindfulness. As you spread your legs for him, the man runs a hand through his golden locks. “Show me what’s going on, baby.”

You waste no time in taking your underwear off with your master’s assistance, rolling up to your leg. Without the cotton barrier, your lower regions show the wire stuffed inside your wet cunt. His thumbs come to spread your folds to inspect further. “Damn, you’re so wet for me.” 

Your breath hitches as Nanami swipes his fingers around your vulva, coating his digits with your wetness as your nerves are at their peak. “Master Kento, please…remove iiit…!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says with a chuckle, pulling on the wire string ever-so-slowly. You lay on your back as the thing connected to the wire stretches your entrance, peaking out of your hole thanks to the leisure force. Biting back a moan, Nanami pulls out the soft pink bullet vibrator crammed inside your swollen chasm and leaves you breathless for a second, gripping your skirt as your legs shudder. “Look at you, so beautiful.”

“Kentoo…” your hand wraps on his, gripping your thighs. “So good…”

“Yeah, feel good?” He blows on you. “Wanted me to take care of you like always?” You nod hurriedly to his amusement, and he licks your labia for you to wail. “Mmmm, my sweetpea…” Your legs have a mind of their own as Nanami licks your aching folds, bucking lightly to the point of you essentially riding his tongue—the blonde smothers your vulva with slobber, covering your private with him and your juices. 

A free hand finds his hair to grab as you throw your head back and sigh heavily, sinking into the feeling of being eaten out by your superior. It feels way too good; after half an hour of having the vibrator stuck inside your slit, you’ve been walking around feeling nothing but sensitive to do even the most basic tasks. But now that Nanami is taking you out of your sole misery and fucks you orally, you can finally relax and experience the euphoria you’ve been yearning for.

…At least until his phone rings again, causing the man to lift his head from your legs to your dismay: another business call, this time with the boss, Yaga. Nanami’s mocha eyes dart to you, and he coos to your disheveled self. “Sorry, love, gotta take this.”

“B-But…!”

“In the meantime,” he hands you the vibrator. “Give me a show.”

You take the toy silently, begrudging, trailing it back down to your cunt for you to thrust in and out of your venture. And the moans you let out are divine to Nanami as he presses the green call button.

“Yes?… Yeah, I’m alone.”

₊˚⊹♡ Gojō Satoru & Suguru Getō ⋮ threesome - oral (m! receiving) - clitoral play (grinding + pinching) - missionary position - protected sex - pet names (baby, cutie, pumpkin, sweetie).

KNOCK–KNOCK!!

“Yo, Suguru, are you in her—WOAH!?”

“Uuugh, fuck, are you serious, Satoru? Can’t wait for me to tell you to come in?”

Oh, this had to be the worst day of your occupation life!

You weren’t supposed to be here; you were meant to be with the other maids around the fortress who needed a helping hand setting up guest rooms or preparing the feast for tonight. Today was big: your master’s best friend was coming over for the weekend. All hands on deck are necessary to make sure his attendance is welcome. Nevertheless, you end up trailing out of your tracks because your master, Getō Suguru, pulls you into his room without anyone noticing a thing. 

The action left you bewildered, especially when he greets you by smashing his lips onto yours, exchanging murmurs and soft moans with each other while his hands grope and fondle whatever part of your body can reach. Of course, you try to retaliate, telling the tall, young man that he’s a terrible host for his friend and should be out there with him! But that doesn’t sway him at all, throwing you onto his bed and unbuckling his pants with a bitten lip. “He can wait,” he says in a sing-song tune, childishly pushing off his responsibilities. “But I can’t,” he crawls on top and kisses you passionately. “Wanna play with you a little more, ‘kay, sweetie?”

And who are you to refuse his request? You submit to him and let him spread your legs…What you did NOT expect, however, as you both seemed to forget to lock the door! And it’s worse, Geto’s best friend, Gojō Satoru, is the one to catch you both in the act. Are you fucking serious?!?

Gojo closes – and locks – the door for your sake. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t knock, right?” The taller man waltzes in as if he owns the place. You, under Geto’s bow, who is shirtless and whose cock is plugged inside your chasm, hide your face away from this mortifying experience. “Plus, what kind of host are you? Leaving me out there to wait for you for fifteen minutes.” Geto rolls his eyes as the white-haired man sits on the bed. “Now, who is this taking up all your attention?”

You don’t say a single word, concealing your shamed face behind your palms. God, just kill me!

“This is the new maid I told you about,” Geto admits with a grin, kissing your ankle. “They’re a pretty little thing…Hey, baby, don’t hide when introducing yourself.” The raven-haired man removes your hands from your face to your sorrow; pairs of blue and violet eyes survey you intimately. 

Gojo coos, coming to your side. “Oh~, this is the new cute maid?” You don’t know if you like the way his gaze travels around your body, nor the way your vagina squeezes onto Geto’s girth as his friend rubs circles on your tummy. “What happened to your shirt?”

“This cutie went ahead and squirted on me,” you gawk at his blunt explanation; was there no other way to phrase that, you dummy!? “That’s why they’re a lil’ sensitive right now.”

His best friend piqued Gojo’s interest, “Is that so?” The hand on your stomach slithers down to your clitoris to grind on, and you jolt haphazardly. “Awww, you like that, princess?” Now it’s his turn to smirk mischievously. “Must be nice being used by your master, huh? And with an audience, too!” 

“N-Noo!” You gasp from a pinch to your clit. “Master Gojo, please look awa—Aiiissh!!”

“Ehhh, and miss this view?” Gojo feverishly swipes on your clitoris while pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ve been dying to meet this new, cute maid that Suguru can’t keep his eyes off. Now, I see what’s got him all hot and steamy.”

“Ahhhh, shiiit, keep getting tight…!” Geto curses under his breath, snapping his hips to your tight slit. “Hmmm, I think they’re starting to like ya, too, Satoru.”

“Really? Aren’t you just adorable,” the snow-headed man claims your lips with his, shoving his tongue inside your mouth to drown. You whimper as he sucks on yours, toes curling as he cups and gropes your chest. “Fuck, so sweet…Hold on, lemme have a turn.” 

Geto clicks his teeth. “You can wait, fucker. I’m trying to finish here.”

Gojo rolls his eyes yet straightens up to unzip his pants. “Fine then…Hey, pumpkin, can you suck me off a bit?” The taller man whips out his erection from the slide of his pants and boxers, and your mind nearly goes to a halt at the sight of the curved limb.

“Go on, don’t wanna leave our guest waiting, right?” Geto does nothing to make this situation any easier to go through, rutting his pelvis into you frantically to chase his orgasm. You are left with no choice and open your mouth with a loose jaw, and Gojo takes the initiative to insert his cock inside. “That’s my baby…Hnngh!”

Gojo fucks your face with a slow start before his flow follows with his dark-headed companion. The curve of his dick fills your mouth so much that your head gets fuzzier as he keeps thrusting into your lips. “Shiit, that feels good,” he murmurs above you, cradling your head gently as he stuffs your lips with himself.

The commotion on both ends of your body only furthers the headache forming and the heat from below flourishing all around. Still sensitive to your own high, your brain turns into mush, and you’re numb to the stimulation between your legs. Jesus, this was too much to keep up with; closing your eyes to help yourself succumb to the use of your body and allow the pleasure to course through. 

Geto watches from above and loves every second of it. The picture of you taking in his best friend’s cock while he fucks you good and deep is so good. Your mewls are muffled because of the length between your lips, yet music to the men’s ears. “Fuuuck, I’m going to…Oh shiiiit…!” Your master can’t stop hammering his erect limb into you, flexing his abs erratically until he nearly gives way to his knees and busts into the rubber shielding his load. His frame shivers with every jerk, making sure every bit of his come is excruciated out of him.

Gojo takes it all in with a whistle. “Ahhhh, damn, that looks hot as hell.”

“Mmmph, you…have no idea,”  The other man sniggers with a shaken head, sluggishly taking out his dick with the condom filled with his semen. After he takes it out and wraps the rubber, he throws a wrapped one to the snow-headed other. “Alright, time to switch.” The tall men share a look and switch places, Gojo now taking his place between your legs while Geto taps your lips with his girth until you suck him in. 

If only the bed could swallow you away from this bizarre scenario!

₊˚⊹♡ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ impact play (spanking) - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - humiliation + degradation - Master kink - pet names (little dove) - mention of drool and tears.

“—Khhhh!! Ahhhh!! Owwww!!”

“Yeah, that’s right, cry for me, bitch.”

It’s not unusual for a handmaiden to be reprimanded for bad behavior or not adequately doing their tasks. However, if you’re serving the King of Curses, Lord Ryōmen Sukuna, those corrections are likely to happen more often than not. 

Imagine it: you’re bent over Sukuna’s massive legs, thighs so big and strong that you’re purchased with security if the firm hand gripping your wrists together wasn’t enough. Your skirt propped up, and your panties slid down to your knees, exposing your bare ass to the cool air of his chambers. However, that is swiftly transitioned to piercing heat and pain in seconds.

A hand comes striking down to your asscheeks — that had to be the twelfth time within these exact two minutes. The skin of your butt is nothing but hot; the man can feel it as he hovers the hand above them, making you shiver. Unpleasant tingling sensations course through the flesh, worsening with every new hit. And your throat is getting dry by how much you’ve been screaming. There is no way the other workers of this fortress haven’t heard your cries by now; you’re sure to be scrutinized by Uraume later today. Unbelievable…

Another smack to your butt pulls a yelp from your system, your body instinctively jolting from another rush of pain! Damn the huge lower left hand holding your wrists together. “—Hahh! Lord Sukuna, please! I beg you, please forgi—Iiiee!!”

“That’s all you’re good at, huh?” A dark chortle adds weight to your ongoing suffering. “Just begging and crying after I caught you being the little slut you are.”

Fuck, this couldn’t get any more humiliating enough. “My Lord, I’m so sorry for—Ahhckk!!” Another slap to your ass; this time, his nails dig into your flesh to extend your pathetic howl. And the thick digits of his lower right hand vigorously wiggle inside your vagina. You know your ass is going to be sore after this…

“Sorry for what: being a dumb clutz for knocking into things and breaking glasses left and right?” He bends to your ear to speak, and your inner walls squeeze his fingers helplessly. “Or going inside my room and touching things without permission?”

“I apologize for overstepping—Mmmph?!” 

“Goddamn, so fucking loud, you fucking pig.” Sukuna stuffs two fingers of his upper right hand into your mouth, lips involuntarily sucking onto them. Now, he lets your wrists go to watch them grab hold of his pants; the sight of your nails scratching onto them like reins strokes his ego. Nothing makes him gloried than seeing a little thing like you break bit by bit in his presence.

Your whines are muffled; the only time an attempt to keep you quiet was made. Cruel of him to do as his fingers relentlessly rub your texture, and he inserts his thumb into your asshole to enfold the same pleasurable torture. 

“Tell me, little dove, what excited you more: silently masturbating while sniffing my clothes on my bed,” tears form in your eyes from a harsh smack to your ass. “Or me catching you in the act? Because you didn’t seem to stop once you saw me.”

Please don’t talk about it! You can only complain within your thoughts, forced to listen to your misbehavior as a maid. And it’s torturous enough that your holes are clamping onto his fingers like crazy, eyes rolling to your skull from the scrape of your upper wall and the push and pull in your rear end. 

“Go ahead, you dirty whore.” The emphasis on the last word makes you twitch. “Admit how big of a slut you are in front of your Master, how you’re good for nothing than to act like a bitch in heat.” A soft ‘pop’ leaves your lips as he removes his fingers. “Go on.”

“—Nndaahh! I’m so sorry, Master, I’m so—Ohhhh!!” Sukuna’s fingers in your chasm curl, his fingertips scratching your insides mercilessly. 

“I didn’t say ask for forgiveness,” He scoffs.

It’s no use; the more you try to delay this, the dizzier you get. “… You’re right, master! I-I’m nothing but a sorry excuse of a maid who’s only—fuuuck!–only g-good at breaking things and not following orders!”

“And?” You can only imagine the most patronizing look he’s giving you. 

“A-And…acting like a total slut that likes to be—Mmmm!!” Sukuna rubs your hot, stinging butt, removing his thumb to switch with another pair of fingers to tease your anus. “L-Likes to be used like a fucktoy by Master…!”

He purrs at your confession. “There you go; wasn’t that hard being honest, right?” The fingers in your ass and cunt go erratic, your shrieks returning to bounce off the walls. “Exactly that, a worthless maid who thinks about nothing but their whorish self. Not even bothering hiding how much you’re enjoying this…”

You wish he were lying; however, he was right on the mark. You’re nothing but a good-for-nothing maid who’s getting off to being reprimanded by your own master. And the fact that you cry out to your lower half spasms to his touches and concede to your orgasm doesn’t help your case. “Taahhh, ahaahhnn, ohhhshit, so good…!”

Your entire frame quivers on him, crying out loud as your crescendo shakes your whole being to your very core. Drool has long escaped your mouth, tears streaming down your face, and your hands gripping his pants. Jesus Christ, this felt way too good! 

Sukuna clicks his teeth and pushes you off of his legs, your limp and dazed figure falling to the floor with no grace. “Tch, unbelievable. You really got a good high out of that, huh?” He looks to his lower left hand, which is smothered with your fluids.

“Haaahh, forgive me, Master…” Your throat is too weak and dry to utter sentences. But that doesn’t matter since Sukuna drags you back up to your knees by the scruff of your neck. Your eyes watch him unzip his pants and widen at the picture of his cocks springing out of his underwear.

“Quit speaking nonsense and do your job, you whore of a maid.”

₊˚⊹♡ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ oral (m! receiving) - face+ throat-fucking - sir kink - musturbation (f! receiving) - facials - pet names (baby, doll[face], sweetheart).

“Hnnmm…ahhh shit, yeah, just like that.”

You chew your lips and swallow thickly. “Are you sure about this, Master?”

Forest green eyes peer down and pair with a crude grin. “Never said otherwise, baby. So keep goin’, yeah?”

“Yes…sir.” Your cheeks heat up, and your hands continue to stroke the erect shaft in your grasp.

A nice shower before heading for bed always hits the spot; nothing more rewarding than that after a day of going through hell and back. However, in Toji’s case, he loves them a lot more when you’re taking care of him and scrubbing his body clean of the stress and grit that taxed him during the day. 

And that means scrubbing all of him.

You were on your knees on the tiled bathroom floor while Toji sat on the rim of the bathtub, situated between his damp legs as his body was wet from the hot steaming water of the tub. Supposedly, you were meant to take care of his laundry while he was showering and bathing. However, at the moment, your hands were grasping onto his erection, coated in soap, smearing it onto every dent and crevice of his groin.

You can’t tell what’s making your head fuzzy: the warmth within this bathroom or watching the tip of Toji’s dick being sheathed in and out of his foreskin as you jerk him off. What you do know is that the latter was too irresistible to marvel at, causing your stomach to do knots and the heat between your legs to twitch your insides. How embarrassing to be aroused by such a situation in front of your superior of all people! 

And the worst part is the tiny glimpses you catch of your master panting and moaning because of your touch. His deep voice produces the most salacious noises as your fingers scrape around the glans to clean — you’ve been chewing on your lip nonstop because of them. The way you knead his balls with care has him hiss, and you nearly jump when he places his wet hand on your clothed shoulder.

Toji chuckles lowly, “Fuck, doin’ so good, doll.” He groans when you pour water onto his cock, cleansing the limb entirely with another dose. “Mmmm, feels good.” 

His praise comments make you bite your cheek. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Master. You’re all clean.”

An onyx brow is lifted. “I don’t think I’m all clean yet.” Your look of confusion humors him, even after he grabs ahold of his length to tap the tip with your mouth, and your eyes widen. “Still haven’t felt that mouth of y’rs, hon.” Your mouth opens to reject, but another tap to your lips halts you from saying any words. “C’mon, sweetheart; no one’s ‘round to stop you. Plus, you know how I like bein’ sucked off.”

He doesn’t leave you any room to argue your way out of this, not to mention how close his dick is to your face. “…Yes, sir.” No words are said after that as you begin to lend him your service, coating your tongue with spit to drizzle from the top to watch it slide down his shaft. All for you to swirl around the cockhead before loosening your jaw and intaking his tip with a hum. And the older man coos with a head back, “Good girl…Mmmm…”

You bob your head steadily, taking him inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. While one hand massages his balls and the other strokes him, you suck and dirty his limb with your saliva. Ironic, isn’t it: doing as your master commands in making his cock “clean” by giving him a fellatio in the bathroom? The way you mewl as the underside of his cock brushes the flat of your tongue is crazy, and you can feel the squeeze of your vulva worsening as time goes on.

Your hips sway on their own the more you suck on Toji, getting more light-headed from sensing his cock pulsate inside your oral cavity. And he chortles again, “Heh, enjoyin’ y’rself?” You moan as he bends down to grope your ass above your skirt, certainly aware that you’re getting more aroused.  “What’re ya gonna do ‘bout that?”

The tip of his cock is released with the ‘pop’ of your lips, and your eyes lidded with bashful want. “Sir, may I please…finger myself?” Holy hell, your heart was pounding like crazy, even with how his spring-green eyes pierced through you. 

You gasp lightly when he grabs your hand and licks your fore and middle fingers, covering them thoroughly with his slobber. “Go on,” he sucks on your digits before spitting them out. “Go wild, baby.” You nod before slurping his cock back into your mouth while your damp fingers venture down to your skirt and push your panties aside to insert them inside your vagina. Your whimpers are too cute to ignore, and Toji finally stands up to change the pace.

While your fingers curl and scratch the heat of your inner walls, Toji grabs for your head to fuck your face, the cadence growing more than mediocre. This time around, he’s busying your throat and face so much with the push of his pelvis that you can’t think straight. The sound of his balls hitting your chin is all you can hear, and your spit pooling around the ring of your lips is too raunchy to comprehend. 

“Haaahhh, shit,” he curses from above, snapping his hips to go deeper into your mouth. “Shit, use that tongue, use—Mmmph…! Fuuuck, yeah, just like that.”

The praises fuel the rhythm of your fingers to go faster, rubbing on your texture as much as you can and your clit grinding against the bottom of your palm. Yet, it seems you can’t fully get off, though. Because of how full your mouth was with how fast Toji was slamming his cock inside your mouth, all you can think about is his length buried inside your vagina and reaching deep to kiss your cervix. Just thinking about it causes you to grip your fingers tighter.

“Ahhh, damnit, right there…!” The raven-headed man grits his teeth with the flex of his abdomen tightening, and his ruts increase. And before you know it, Toji rips his member out of your lips and fists his shaft until his load is expelled. White substance showers onto your face, landing on your nose and cheek, and bits drip down to stain your shirt. You gasp aloud before taking his tip to suck on again, stroking his pulsing dick until his hips stop bucking.

“Guess you’re all dirty, too, huh.” He sniggers and massages your cheeks. “But we got all night to clean ya up real good. Right, dollface?”

A soft noise leaves as you withdraw from his cock and place chaste kisses. “Yes, sirrr…”

“Good girl. Now, take off that skirt of y’rs.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[thephantomsdream]

Let's be real for a second.

Ghost likes you a lil mean. Just enough. To him, to his mates, to everyone. He can fight. He will fuck anyone up who dares to react aggressively to you, so it doesn't matter if you're sassy, snarky, plainly put a little shit. He won't stop you, he's not gonna "tame" you, he's definitely gonna fucking eat it up and tease you, loving your remarks, clever, funny or straight up mean. The man will be smirking behind his mask (or straight up giving you heart-eyes at home). Don't be unnecessarily mean though, it's not a good look on anyone. Oh, god, and if your humor is dark? You got the man snorting and fucking giggling*(1), shoulders shaking and him trying to hold it in as you're plain roasting someone.

Be mean to him. He tests the waters, dropping one of his incredible and fantastic jokes for you to roll your eyes at him and tell him to rather wear a clown mask, since he's such a joke, and I swear he folds. Wants to pin you down and fuck you raw until you're a sobbing mess that knows nothing else but his name? Of course, and know he'd be mocking you, because where's that snarky mouth of yours, hmm? Oh, ya, busy sucking on his fingers. But until then, he's lowkey following you around dropping stupid joke after stupid joke until you're actually angry and amused. He got you smiling somehow? Gets him feeling like a young boy with a crush, silly butterflies and all.

Give him a bitch-face. Raised brow and unimpressed face at anyone and he's just eyes on you. Fucking hell, he's creepy too. Ghost is fucking intimidating as he is but if he just fixates on something, big brown eyes locked onto you and (big, awkward because let's be fucking for real, boy's actually fucking awkward) body frozen. Just 🧍‍♂️. (I'm fucking wheezing, he just 🧍‍♂️👁👁 and you know it!)

"Fuck are you looking at, weirdo?" That's bloody foken lovely!

And!

AND! He just (again, awkwardly) hovers and makes shit jokes but is so helpful to you in any way he can because in reality he's garbage with words but with actions he's much better. Regardless of where you met, he'll find a way in your life because you bring him joy and he just can't seem to let go. Simon tries to convince himself too that it ain't a good idea, that you're better off. Aha. Yeah, then you just look at him in a way when someone else says something absolutely fucking stupid and he just... Yeah, he's yours.

Be mean to him, then let him shove his face in your tits. Pull his hair a little but wrap your arms around him. Bite him and call him an idiot if you want, as long as you call him your idiot. That's Simon to you.

(But when you're nice to only him, he feels special. Make this man feel special, yeah? He needs it.)

(1): I actually imagined him in his barracks, him kicking his feet while he wears a pink robe, writing in his pink diary (with a pink pen with one of those fluffy balls at the end) "Dear diary, my lovie called me an asshole today. My heart is still racing. We shall mary in spring." and drawing hearts around his and your initials together.

[f0ofishies]

FL*SHING THEM AFTER AN ARGUEMENT

tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi, oikawa tōru

Tsukishima Kei, your beloved fiance. You loved the man to death, you swear.. it's just that he's always been like this. All of the damn time. There was one time when you argued over dinner because someone didn't want to eat Italian. Seriously? How'd you even date this guy and later on accept a ring from him.

Just kidding, he has his cute moments. The man had prioritized you a lot during his college days. He must've fallen hard for you, huh? When he did get on one knee, you thought it was a prank. Nonetheless, you said yes— already being engaged for 4 months, too!

Back on topic, he's always been a cranky mother fucker and even more when he lose that volleyball match. You looked at him— in astonishment. This man had the audacity to even be too confident in a little fun of chess?

You couldn't even believe the audacity of him. He'd been laughing at your move on your black horse.. "Gee, just get one with it, babe..!" Another ridiculing sentence from him could've sparked a fire inside you. "Hah? Seriously, why'd you even do this rematch— when you clearly don't know chess."

Your eye must've twitched at that, you love him, and you swear to that on your life. But, seriously, he's getting on your last nerve. As he quickly moved his queen, grabbing your knight in the process. You moved another piece as he smiled. "Thank god, we don't do rematches in volleyball."

Your joke immediately made his smirk turn sour. As you chuckled to your own statement, your eyes glanced up to his. He immediately gave a disgusted face at you. "What, Tsuki?—" You tease, almost pinching his face as he has moved away from your hand.

"What is your problem..?" Now that made you raise an eyebrow. "My problem—?" He can't be serious right now. And that's how he ended up giving you the silent treatment, ending the chess match when it just started. You were utterly confused... even bewildered by his actions

Knowing your fiance won't crumble to a piece of you, you just quickly called out. "Kei?" He didn't even look at you.. oh, so that's how he was going to play. "Tsuki?" No budge, huh? The man had some nerves for ignoring his future wife. "Tsukishima Kei." Last call, he finally whipped his head to you.

Rolling your shirt up— his golden brown eyes dilated at the sight of your perky, wait, wait, this was cheating. "That's right, doofus.. I know you can't ignore them." You could totally hear the clogs in his brain working. Even bouncing them a bit— He quickly pulled your shirt down. "Hey—! what was that for??"

"You're in one hell of a ride, do that shit again. I dare you, baby."

How much aura did you gain after marrying the Ushijima Wakatoshi? You, the lovely wife, as ever.. had always been the cheeky one in the marriage. During one of his games, you'd literally chant his name out so loud. Maybe the whole stadium could hear you.

He'd be there happily, holding the ring chained around his neck. Giving you a small smile— You couldn't help but beam as you show off your ring finger too! Now that was months ago, your husband came home in a sour face after meeting his parents.

"Baby, how were your parents?" You asked him, quickly smiling as you cooked your signature curry. "Fine like usual." His deep voice caught you off guard as you felt a hand crept behind you. "Oh, so what did they—" "Can we not." You tilted your head.. "Sure.. okay." You compiled because who were you to say anything about that?

You looked at him as he ate, he felt your stare. "Yes, love?" The way your hand had been tapping on to counter.. like crazy. Lost in thought, you look up at him. "Toshi.. you know you can tell me anything?" Of course he knew that so he raised an eyebrow. "I know."

You were itching to know why he's so persistent on not telling you why.. he would usually just tell you at this point. But he seriously didn't want to talk about it, so he dismissed your concerns once again. "But babe.." You whined.. something in him just snapped.

"No, can you stop trying?" You huffed at his tone of language.. it was kind of your fault for being this nosy. So now here you were having a full blow argument. Were you petty? Definitely, a hundred percent. So when your husband had genuinely left you in the kitchen. You huffed—

Clearly, he needed a lot of space, huh? Shutting the bedroom door very tight— you wanted to go sleep there, but how? He had locked it from the inside. "Toshi..?" You called out. No answer. "Ushijima Wakatoshi!" You yelled out and finally the familiar 'click!' You finally let out a sigh and practically go in fast.

He's still on the bed, clearly trying to sleep. "Toshi..~" Your sweet velvety voice intoxicating him then sliding onto the bed— even straddling onto him. Still, the man laid bare, not even checking you out. You intentionally grind, trying to find the best friction. His hands finally with all of its glory wrapped around your hips.

"Look up." Your command might've sent a shudder on your poor husband. The blood pumping down to his familiar friend down there— oh how a vixen you were.. Seriously, he saw the way you held your shirt up. Those breasts out in the air just for him. "Mmm? Want it bad?"

"I swear, wife— you're always all talk and no action.."

That Argentinan volleyball player was taken by you! Who knew he had the hots for you. Tōru Oikawa, he had recently left Japan for Argentina.. then he met you. Somehow, you two clicked. Clearly, you only thought he was just getting into your pants but nope!

The infamous girlfriend of the volleyball player never really visited his games. Probably because your work always consumed your time. Tōru was beyond okay with that— of course he was. But after such a long tiring game, all he wanted to do was a date night with you. Sadly, you were still out at work.. in overtime. How could you not remember it at all? When you came home, his first response was immediate silence. Seriously nothing!!

"Tōru?" You called out in the shared apartment, finally slipping off your shoes. Stretching your arms wide as no response. "...Babe?" You called out once more. Absolutely nothing— you panicked, of course. Already running around to find him.That's when you spotted your sulky boyfriend, buried deep into the bed among all the plushies you have.

"Shit, babe.. did something happen at practice?" You asked him as he finally noticed your presence. An immediate huffed was heard, thanks to him. "Babe..? Baby..!!" You whined the petname, trying to uncover the blankets.

There he was, your lovely boyfriend. Tōru glared at you, those dark brown hues of his. "What's made you so sour..?" You asked him once more, trying to coerce him out of his moodiness. "I wonder why." He interrupted you, that made you raise an eyebrow. "Babe..."

You were utterly clueless, even when he avoided your touches. It suddenly clicked to you, a promise to him on for a date. You internally groan at that, "Shit, Tōru you know I didn't mean to forget.." Your hand itching to grasp his— yet he pulled away once again. "You always forget about me.." He whined into your shared pillows. "No I don't.. baby.. I'll make it up to you!!" You try to reason with him.

That's what got him to lash out at you. You did kind of deserve it— so here you are on the bed trying to get a sulky Tōru out of your shared bedroom once more. An idea popped into your head! "Tōru.. I have something to show you.." You found the man finally walk out of the bedroom. His disheveled appearance still looked way too good for your own eyes.

Your fingers found their way to your blouse— giving him a sweet smile. Only halfway through, you were damn thankful for picking a good bra for today. "Baby, I'm really sorry.." You whispered. And finally— your breasts were in full view of his sight. Nothing could have prepared you for the feral Tōru ravishing you!

The man was full on groping your breasts, even fiddling with those buds.. was he really that turned on? You couldn't believe you've let him play with you like this. On the tips of your heels— you needed more friction down there, too. So you whined at him, how your cunt needed his fingers too! And that's what he did, dipped them into your soaked panties.

"Fffuck— that's not fair, babe.. yknow your boobs and pussy are my weakness..!"

[thinkinonsense]

PAST LIFE⋆

dofp!logan howlett x mutant fem!reader

cw:fingering, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of motherhood, fluff

masterlist

logan should've known when he accepted the mission to come go back in time to stop the sentinels that you would still be here.

"is there an issue here, hank?"

the sound of your voice made logan's heart flutter. you were barely peaking out from behind the door but logan could see you just fine. he couldn't stop staring.

"no, everything's fine." hank assured you. just as you turned to return to charles's office, you heard the door burst open. this handsome stranger hits hank right in the nose before continuing up the stairs to you.

logan had to take you in for a second. his beautiful future wife stood in front of him and had absolutely no clue that they were married because she was only twenty-five years old.

had you always been this gorgeous? was that even fair? all of these were questions that floated around in his mind.

"who are you and what do you want?" you asked as he reached out to touch you.

"so you've always been this beautiful, huh, princess?" he purred, tucking away a piece of your hair behind your ear.

sure, he was attractive in his brown leather jacket and sunglasses but this man looked in his mid-forties. logan was too busy staring down at your frilly yellow babydoll dress to notice where you were looking at him. his left hand; more specifically the gold band on his ring finger.

"i don't mess with married men." you glare at him. he can't help but chuckle darkly down at your innocence.

"oh, my wife wouldn't mind."

god, logan felt like such a pervert for coming on to you but he couldn't help it. your ethereal beauty was unreal. not that you have aged much since the present day, as you two have the slow aging processes in common. older hank would always tell logan that he should be lucky that you agreed to date him because there were plenty of people who would love to take his place. sure, logan believed him but now, he really understood what hank meant.

"where's charles at, sweetheart?" logan asks, inhaling your floral sent.

before you can respond, charles comes barreling down the stairs drunkenly calling after you.

"where've you been?" he asked you then turned to logan. "who the hell are you?"

this should be good.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"how do we know that you're actually from the future?" you asked, sitting atop charles desks, swinging your legs. hank and charles stood outside in the hallway discussing whether or not to trust logan.

"you've always been this stubborn?" logan says under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"how do we even know each other in the future?" you finally asked.

for the past hour, this man has tried to sell this absurd story about how future charles and magneto sent him here together to save mutants from sentinels. so far he's managed to convince charles but hank and you were still on the fence.

"we're married, sweetheart." logan smirks wickedly.

there was absolutely no way that you two were married. this man is grumpy, mean-looking, and wears dark brown leather. you are an academic scholar who adores pastels and helping other mutants. he had to have you mistaken.

you squint up at him and laugh, "we are married?"

logan nods, walking over to you until he's standing between your legs.

"tell me something only i would know then."

"your favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry, you hate the cold and winter, anytime you drink coffee you get nightmares, your favorite color is green, but your favorite shade is the color my eyes get when i look at you." logan could see the way your eyes widen, slowly starting to believe him more and more. he couldn't help but feel cocky. "would you like me to continue?"

"im not sure... think you're gonna have to prove it. another way." you challenge him. logan's hand trails up your thigh, playing with the soft yellow material.

"c'mon sweetheart, this is too easy." he mutters against your neck, placing soft kisses and nibbling on the skin.

logan knew you like the back of his hand. he knew exactly what you liked and disliked. sometimes you would even tell him that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"you like when i pull your bottom lip when we kiss. you blush every time i offer for you to sit on my face. one of your favorite ways to fuck is pressed up against a wall or bent over a table..." logan could go on and on.

"we do that...?" you whisper embarrassed by this version of yourself, trying to avoid his burning gaze.

"oh, all the time. sometimes you pull me down on the floor when i come home, begging to ride me right then and there." logan says, once he captures your attention again. you chew on your bottom lip adorably.

a small whimper passes your lips before you remember that hank and charles aren't that far away from the room. one of your hands comes up to logan's chest, slightly pushing him back despite not wanting to.

"w-we should stop." you warn him. "they can hear us."

this was when logan knew that you hadn't discovered part of your mutation yet. he had already assumed that you hadn't but this confirmed it.

"need you to relax, princess," he says, moving higher up to your jaw. your body betrays everything your mouth says, eating out of the palm of his hand. "i promise once you relax, it'll feel like time has stopped."

logan's lips taunt yours; not quite giving you what you want. fed up, you overpower him and push his lips into yours. the only word floating around in your head was 'relax'.

carefully, logan lays you back on the desk. something about being held in the stranger's arms set you at ease; maybe he was your husband?

"you don't know this yet..." logan huffs. "but you can stop time."

you scoff, thinking that you caught him in a lie. "no, i can't."

"if you relax like i said, then you can." logan mutters against your collarbone.

one of his hands slides up your thigh while the other rubs circles on your hip bone. was this wrong of you? if he is telling the truth –and it seems like he is– then technically he is your husband and it's not wrong to mess around with your husband.

"open up for me, babydoll." logan mumbled against your collarbones, placing wet kisses and nibbling on the delicate skin.

your legs spread with ease as his callused fingers rub over your cotton panties. the soft material of your dress is bunched at your tummy as he tugs your panties off, pocketing them for himself. his thumb returns to rub your button.

"p-please..." you whimper, looking up at logan with bambi eyes. "need more."

"anything for you, princess." he groans, slipping two fingers inside of you as gently as he can. this earned a loud moan from you when he nudged that spot deep in your gummy walls with ease.

"see how well i know my wife?" logan gloats, pressing soft kisses to your lips but never letting you catch him. "you usually prefer it rougher than this but i'm not cruel."

"y-you can go... can go faster." you pant, never having anything quite his size yet.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he says in a condescending tone. "wanna know something 'bout the future?"

it was difficult but you managed to nod your head despite how clearly fucked out you were at this point.

"a couple weeks ago, you came home telling me how much you want to be a mom; how you've always wanted to be a mom." he pulls back to look at your pretty face, lust darkening your eyes and slick pouring out of you, practically dripping down his palm onto the desk. "so, every chance we get alone you've been begging for me to go raw inside of you."

logan loved how even as you're all spread out for him, you're still blushing at his filthy words.

"look at you, blushing while you soak my hand." he mocks with a smirk.

"i'm s-so close, please!" you beg so politely.

his thick fingers pick up the pace as you clench down on them; jaw dropped and head thrown back. logan's other hand supports your back while your cute painted blue nails dig into his wrist as your climax starts to wash over you.

"hey sweetheart, look out the window." he chuckles, moving your chin to stare hazily out the glass window.

you couldn't believe it. every car, bird, street light, everything was stopped. everything but you and logan.

"how did you know that i could...?"

"you can't always control it but when you calm your mind, it's easier for you to do it."

"does it always happen when we...?"

"when we have sex...?" logan chuckles as you hide yourself in his chest. you nod. "no. over time you've found ways to control it. sometimes if we need more time, you might manipulate it."

"future me sounds cool." you giggle, lifting up to look at him. "how do we meet?"

"i can't tell you that." he smiles.

"well, then where are you in this timeline? how can i meet you sooner?"

"i'm not a very good man during this time, baby. you'll meet me when the time is right."

"what if you don't want me then? how do you know we will still get together?"

logan looks down at your pouty lips, swiping his thumb across it.

"i'll always come back for you. no matter the timeline or where we are in life; i'll find you again."

"promise?"

"i promise you, sweetheart. don't worry that beautiful mind of yours." he assures, kissing the tear strolling down your cheek.

logan reaches down and kisses you tenderly, pulling you out of the time freeze. suddenly the door swings open on the two of you. thank god, logan had quick reflexes, pulling your dress back down to cover you.

charles calls your name and then asks, "what are you doing?"

"it's okay, he's my husband."

a loud laugh escapes logan at your lovey-dovey tone, almost making hank and charles eyes fall out of their heads. you couldn't wait to meet logan again in the future.

[mcondance]

knowing better, twisted pleasure ☆ spencer reid

MDNI 18+ oral yay!!!, i love thinking about spencer with his head between my legs so here we are, overstim so “stop” is said once so keep that in mind ☆ title from killshot by magdalena bay, listen as you read if you want! spencer i can’t get enough of you please.

☆ ☆

it’s too much, you can’t. you can’t.

“spence— spence stop,” you plead as you squirm and your legs draw up in an attempt to get away from him. but he just won’t stop. unaffected, he slips his hands under your thighs and pulls you closer to his mouth, to where he wants you.

soft locks are enveloped in your hands as you card your fingers through them because even in your delirium, giving him affection is like breathing. your objections skate right over that pretty head of his and he keeps going, because he knows you don’t mean it. he knows that if he stops and rises back up to his knees, you’ll be begging him to “come back, please,” like you did that one time he felt really evil.

you gasp when you feel two fingers enter you, and you groan painedly when they begin to move, stroking maddeningly.

spencer’s too good at this, his fingers are too caring and precise inside you and his tongue is too soft and sweet as it laves over you. jesus, what the fuck.

it’s all so much, so much. a tortured, groveled moan rips from your chest as another sickly-sweet pang of feeling rocks through you. spencer’s commanding fingers tighten around your thighs, stacking yet another sensation on your already overwhelmed nervous system. human evolution, no matter how developed and perfected, was not made for this. it balks in the face of what spencer’s doing to you.

“oh my god— spence,” you whine, locking in on him through your blurry, teary eyes. between your legs, he looks unfortunately perfect, even as he shuts you down and lights you up all at the same time. you’ve got enough going on under your skin to power your whole block.

it’s lewd, how he looks so pretty eating you out. his messy brown hair and those melting golden eyes, and most disgustingly, his mouth hidden where his tongue flicks against your absolutely soaked center. the visual is art, though, the plane of his shoulders and his ever-expressive liquid hazel eyes flitting between closed and taking you in, in your beautiful ruin.

it’s in moments like these where spencer feels good. you’re explicitly, obscenely beautiful to him, and your pleasure is something he takes great pride in giving to you. as you lose yourself in it, sinking into the sticky pool of feeling, he gets to bear witness to it all.

“oh, baby,” you moan so warmly as he flattens his tongue and licks right over your clit. before, his tongue was quick and precise, but now he’s taken to loving you slowly, licking in a way that could only be called sensual. he hums as he runs his tongue over you again, so salacious, open-mouthed and he looks so dirty that you can’t fucking take it any more. again, your body does its best to protect you from feelings you can’t compute, but spencer does his best to make you take what you need more than air.

then, his fingers inside you focus on their goal, and he’s curling them familiarly and kissing that spot, rubbing it softly.

“yeah, fuck—,” is all you can scramble out before what’s been building up in you since he first settled between your legs explodes. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re exploding with how fucking much you feel. it should be humanly impossible to feel this way, but it’s not, because you’re feeling it here and now as your ears pop and your vision goes black and spencer just keeps fucking consuming you. he has the nerves to moan from between your legs, sending shockwaves through your already ravaged being.

eons pass. you travel through a thousand universes and sit upon a thousand suns before you come back to your Earth, with your spencer looking softly up at you, his head laying on one of your glossy thighs. as your senses slowly return to you, it seems he’s wiped his hand off on the sheets because the hand that’s rubbing the outside of your thigh is relatively dry, considering its previous position.

“you okay?” he asks warmly.

“fuck you,” you drag, croaky and unpolished.

he snorts.

“yeah, you’re okay,” he says through his laughing, unhooking his hand from under your trembling thigh as he rises up to hover over you. he kisses you, and just barely begrudgingly, you kiss him back.

“good?” he whispers over your lips. you wrap your arms over his neck as you both settle with each other.

“yeah,” you acquiesce lightly with a shrug and a tilt of your head, before you bring him down for another kiss.

[staysdelulus]

Bang Chan - Corrupted

--Boyfriend Chan and Inexperienced Reader--

Summary: Chan's been feeling it, and after being in a relationship with you for a while, he's ready to initiate intimacy. Only if you agree, of course (you certainly did).

Warnings: fem!reader, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), pinv, penetration, etc.

WC: 1.6k

--

You knew nothing. Nothing about sex. He had laughed it off when he first heard you talking about it, thinking you were joking, but the way you had looked at him, your eyes so soft and curious… he knew at that moment, you weren’t lying.

Sex? Isn’t that just… putting your dick in there and then… yeah. The way you had said it was so funny, too, he nearly laughed. But he also nearly took you right then and there. He wanted to corrupt you, and he knew the perfect time would be coming soon. The holiday season.

Dec. 24

The two of you were at your family's party, some uncle’s house with heaps of food and lots of sweets. Presents wrapped in brown grocery bags piled in front of the tree as everyone gathered around. Chan, a long-time boyfriend now, had joined, greeting your cousins, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who was there.

As you sit together on the ground, he pulls you in his lap, resting his head on your shoulder, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. Squirming slightly in his lap, he tenses slightly, feeling the slight bulge forming already. Your words ring in his mouth again, and he has to use everything within him to not fuck you right then and there.

Luckily, it was your turn for White Elephant now, and he had the chance to compose himself before you would be back. As the hours passed, he knew he couldn’t do it today. It was late, 12:45 AM, nearly 1 in the morning, when you two left.

By the time you were back, you were too tired, kissing Chan tiredly before falling asleep in his arms. He kisses your forehead softly, before closing his eyes. It can wait, Chan. It can wait.

Dec. 25

“Merry Christmas!”

This time, you were with Chan’s family for dinner. Chan had gotten you two there early, his mother engulfing you in a hug while his father waved from the grill. Chan had tugged you with him to his room,  and you had followed, blissfully unaware of his intentions. As you sat down, he pushes you back on the bed, straddling you as he kisses you, your eyes widening before you comply, body relaxing under his touch as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away softly, eyes meeting yours, your chest heaving as you gasped for breath. “Chan? What-”

“Lamb’s ready!”

The call from Chan’s father rings out, and Chan holds back a groan before he pulls himself up and away from you. The whole time, he’s horny. Extremely horny. His hands don’t stop touching you, whether it’s his hand fluttering against yours, his touch flickering to your thigh, holding you there before his hand left and touched a different part of you.

That night, when you arrive home, it’s late. But not too late.

“Thank you for the presents again, Chan,” you say softly, smiling as he kisses you gently.

“Of course, baby. Thank you, too,” he says. Before you can reply, he continues. “I have one more present for you.”

Your brows raise, eyes wide. “Oh, Chan, you don’t-”

“I’ve been thinking about… moving further into our relationship.” Bang Chan’s words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, your eyes widening at the implication. “You mean… Is that why you asked me about sex?”

Chan nods, a deep flush moving to the tips of his ears as he speaks softly. “I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I just… I wanted to ask.”

Your eyes search his for a second, before nodding. “Okay.”

He freezes, reality suddenly hitting him. “Are you sure? We don’t have to-”

“Just be gentle,” you whisper. “Please?”

Chan nods quickly, his hands guiding you to the bed. “I will. Tell me to stop if you need me to, okay? I’ll go slow.” God, I’m going to fucking corrupt you, Y/n.

Chan begins to kissing you slowly, straddling you as he climbed over you, kissing you deeply. His hands move to the supple flesh of your breast, gently kneading the small mounds, his hands trailing under your camisole top.

As he cups your breast, his fingers nip at your nipples, feeling them satisfyingly harden as you gasp, whimpering as his lips left yours to trail down to your jaw.

“Up,” he murmurs softly, tapping on your bare shoulder. As you do, he pulls the top off of you before tugging off your bra. Kissing your shoulder, his lips trail down to the mounds, sucking on one as his hand played with the nipple of the other.

“Channie, f-feels g-g-good,” I whimper, my eyes wide. He grins against your breast, his hand moving down to your thighs, sliding up your pants as he strokes your inner thigh.

“I know, baby,” Chan murmurs, bringing himself up on his elbows and placing a kiss on your nose. Before he brings himself down. His teeth tug on the waistband of your shorts. Tugging them off, his eyes widen. “Y/n- what- you’re not wearing panties?”

You flush slightly. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no, baby. You- why?”

You shrug. “I took a shower and forgot to bring some, so I just…”

As you flush, he just laughs, a low rumble as his breath lingers on your skin. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, lips trailing closer and closer to your core. You eyes are wide. “Chan, what are you doing?”

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs softly, placing a kiss on the sensitive bundle of nerves as you gasp at the sudden feeling. “Just relax, baby. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, your eyes wide as you lean back. That’s when his tongue swipes against your core, right through the folded lips. Your hand falls to his curls, eyes flying wide open as you gasp. “Chan!”

He doesn’t stop. Not at all, his lips sucking on your clit, licking your entrance, his thumb moving to your clit every time his tongue left it, your hips bucking as you whimpered, moaning his name, the sounds rolling off of you naturally. You could feel a pressure rising in your lower abdomen, sniffling.

“Baby, gonna stretch you out,” Chan mumbles. His lips pucker up onto your clit again, fingers pushing into you slowly. He starts with one finger, pushing in inch by inch. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper, panting slightly at the overwhelming feeling, your core clenching his finger desperately. “Ch-Channie-”

“Sh, baby, let go for me,” Chan murmurs, his tongue swiping against you once more right as you come, crying out as everything within yourself releases.

You squirt. Right onto his face, his eyes rolling back as he licks you clean. Your eyes meet his, wide as you gasp. “Chan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“That was good,” he murmurs, gently reassuring you. “That was amazing, baby. Don’t apologize, hm?”

You nod, eyes watering from coming down on your high before he moves himself up, balancing himself on his elbows, kissing you deeply, the taste of you falling into your mouth. As Chan pulls away, he gently rubs your clit again, your hips bucking as you whimper, crying softly at his touch. “Sh, sh, baby. Don’t cry, hm?”

He kisses you again, his voice soft. “Gonna take care of you, okay? Remember?”

He grins as he repeats your words. “I’m going to put my dick in there, and then… you know?”

When you turn your head away with embarrassment, Chan tilts your chin back towards him. “Hey, baby. Look at me. I’m going to make you feel good, okay?”

You nod, but speak when he taps your jaw. “Yes, Channie.”

“Good girl.” His praise makes something in you twitch, your core clenching as his thumb continued to rub against you. Gently, he aligns himself with your entrance, before pushing in. And fuck. You’re tight.

Extremely tight, more than he had expected, every after fucking you with his fingers. Cock throbbing, he pushes himself in slowly, holding himself back from thrusting in and just pounding into you until he came over and over again. As you adjust and stretch, he checks in with you before beginning to thrust. Slowly, yet building speed and momentum.

“Chan-” your gasps get shorter and shorter as you whine, tears pricking your eyes at the beautiful sensations you were feeling.

He doesn’t stop. Not even when you reach your high, sobbing and whining and writhing. Just holds you down, one hand flat on your stomach, the other pushing down a leg. He continues, fucking you until he comes, thrusting through his pleasure.

And when you think he’s done, he starts again. Over and over again. Completely, utterly, obsessed.

With the way you looked, coming for him, eyes rolling back, lips parted as you sobbed in pleasure and desperation, unable to take it yet being such a good girl for him. With the way his cock could just push into you, your pussy forever clutching him. He doesn’t stop until even he can’t move anymore.

“Baby?” he murmurs softly. “You okay?”

You manage to weakly nod. He shifts his body against you, holding you as he kisses away the tears on your face. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll clean us up, okay?”

Managing to nod again, he kisses your eye, your temple, your forehead, your nose, your lips, before he just holds you, letting you fall asleep. This wouldn’t be the last time the both of you would be intimate. That much was for sure.

-

The next day, Chan finds a text from you, a smile tugging on his lips. I guess sex isn’t just a dick in there. I’m still damn sore, Chan.

Chan grins cockily before replying. It won’t be the last time you’re sore, baby.

[wheres-mylove]

puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader

Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.5k

A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.  

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.

Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.

“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.

“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.

“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”

“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”

Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”

The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”

“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”

“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”

With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.  

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.

She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.

She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.

Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”

Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.

“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”

Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.

The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.

“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”

And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.

“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.

She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.

“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”

She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?

“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.

“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.

The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.

She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.

“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”

Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”

Ah. The young Stark. 

“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”

The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.

The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.

“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.

It was the girl’s turn to laugh.

“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.

“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”

“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.” 

“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”

Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.

“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”

Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.

“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”

“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”

“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”

(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”

“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”

Smooth, Cregan, smooth.

Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.

“Now, let’s help you with that.”

That old hag was right. He had good arms.

The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.

But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.

Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was. 

Helaena Targaryen.

“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before she even had a chance to say hello.

“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” she shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”

“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”

“I mean,” the girl sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”

He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.

Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”

(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”

“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”

The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”

“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”

(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”

“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”

She knew he wasn’t.

“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”

A strange noise woke her up.

It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.

“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.

Frosty?

She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.

He wanted her to follow him.

“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty kept looking back at her to make sure she was keeping up.

In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.

“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.

“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.

“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.

“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.

“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”

Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”

“You really got that worried?” 

“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”

That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.

“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”

“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”

Cregan placed the mug in front of her.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.

Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”

Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?

“Are you asking me out?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.

“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”

He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”

She liked him so much.

“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?” 

“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.

Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.

Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.

Well done, human.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 7

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army. 

Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.

“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.

Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.

"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.

“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.

Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."

"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.

"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."

Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.

"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."

"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.  

Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."

"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."

Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.

Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.

"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!

Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"

"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."

Things. George Russell had said some things. 

Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"

Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.

"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.

"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.

No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.

Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.

"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.

"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.

"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."

Colette huffed but she was still seething.

Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"

"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"

Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.

Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.

"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.

Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:

"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."

For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.

"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.

"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."

"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."

Colette just huffed.

"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.

Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.

"No," Jos answered flatly.

Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"

"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.

"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."

The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.

Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.

"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."

Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.

"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.

“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.

On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."

"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.

"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."

Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. 

"Fuck," Victoria cursed.

“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”

All three of them just gaped at the TV.

Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.

"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."

He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.

Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.

All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.

And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.

"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.

"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.

Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.

It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.

It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.

They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.

Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.

How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?

It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.

It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.

And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.

Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.

Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.

"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."

She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.

"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."

Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.

"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.

There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.

"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.

The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.

The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.

It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.

But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.

"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."

“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”

She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.

"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.

Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.

“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“

“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"

But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes,  you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."

The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.

Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.

Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."

It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.

She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.

Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.

She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.

"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.

"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"

Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.

The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.

"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"

Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.

She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.

“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.

Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.

“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.

A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.

"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."

The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”

"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."

[defmaybe]

Reticence

aespa x Male Reader

1.9k words

A/N: This blog is fully comprising of bfh at this point, thanks @friskyriskywhisky for the ask!

—

“Tsk, slut.”

Jimin looks down at your pliant body sitting on the sofa. With her are the other three women that were just on the stage, moved so fluidly—alluring to your eyes. And now, you’re in the dressing room, surrounded by them—all sweaty and panting. Every curve and contour of their bodies is shining.

“You think you could just fuck Seungwan for her to brag that to us and still show up at this concert?” Yizhuo asks with her face leaving a little distance from yours. Her voice laces with anger… and something else.

“I–I–”

“Oh, fuck off with this victim card. I know you loved calling a thirty-year-old woman mommy, didn’t you?” Yizhuo continues her interrogation. Your hands grip the fabric of the couch tighter.

“‘Oh, mommy, you’re so tight’, ‘I love your abs, mommy’”

You try to object, “B–But–”

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not done with ya,” Yizhuo shouts. “Or, or, ‘You moan like an angel, mommy’.”

You’re flabbergasted as to why Seungwan could remember that encounter in such detail. And why are these four women so in rage at your seemingly inconsequential actions?

“Wh–Why, me?” You point to yourself, face showing as much curiosity as possible to them. Maybe they’ll let you go if you can feign disinterest.

“Because you have a good cock, baby boy,” Aeri replies, as she strides towards your litheness. “And we want our share of it.”

She plants herself on your lap, feeling that unwanted erection. “God, baby boy, you’re so, so hard already,” she whispers.

“A–Aeri, what are you–”

“Shhh, tell me, baby–” she grinds her supple rear on your pants, and you’re doing your best to not let a moan out. “–do you want mommies to take care of you?”

You are lost in the sea of answers, unable to find any satisfying words for them. “I–I–”

“O–Or do we have to fuck an answer out of you, huh?” Minjeong chimes in, trying to keep her resolve, but vulnerability shines through that façade.

“Alright, fuck it. I’ll fuck an answer out of him. Get off his lap, Aeri,” Jimin commands, unbuckling her belt.

Aeri groans, but she complies with her leader’s command. The feeling of her luscious thighs leaves your lap, robbing you the sense of comfort you felt, leaving you unsated.

Karina

“J–Jimin?” you stutter.

Jimin then puts a finger on your lips. “Hey, it’s mommy, understand?”

You sheepishly nod. It’s like you’d pass on a chance right now.

“Now, be my little good boy, and sit still for me, alright, slut?”

You sheepishly nod. It’s like you’d pass on a chance right now.

“Good boy,” Jimin says, before kneeling down and languidly peeling your lower garments off. Your cock springs out in excitement.

“Ngnh, mommy,” you groan, unable to bear the weight of your lust.

“I know, I know. Just wait, alright?”

“Ngh.”

She leaves you with your shirt on, softly putting your pants and boxers beside you. And she undoes her tight-fitting shorts and her panties in a single motion, revealing her unshaved cunt just for you.

“M–Mommy, I–I–”

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” she asks, getting on top of you, ready for the ride of your life.

You nod.

Jimin welcomes you with an otherworldly tightness. The walls squeeze the life out of you. You can’t think of anything but her sweet, sweet cunt. Every path in your mind leads to her.

“Wouldn’t be complete without these tits, would it?” she toys with you, hips rocking on your raging cock faster.

“Please, mommy,” you plead.

“Sure thing, baby boy,” she replies, as her fingers grab the hem of her tight-fitting, revealing top, and pull them up. Her voluptuous mounds slowly spill out of the fabric cage. Her brown nipples are sitting in glory, erect, excited, all for you.

Without a word, you latch your lips onto the eager nubs, eliciting moans and whimpers from her.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby boy,” Jimin screams at your touch.

The taste of her sweat lingers on your dirty tongue—salty. Her breasts feel angelic, the softness resting on your mouth. You make sure to give them equal ministrations to keep her satisfied with her baby boy. And she mewls back—a signal that you’re doing it right.

Slowly, her body writhes—a sign of the impending doom. Her motion becomes more rapid, lost in the promise of ecstasy.

“Ngh, ngh, I’m gonna cum, baby boy.”

“Please cum on me, mommy. Give me your squirt, please.”

And your desperate plea seems to do wonders for her.

“Ah, fuck!”

Her whole body tenses on yours. Torrents of juice flow onto your lap—warm. Your mouth latches onto her divine breasts. She moans and squirm on you. It’s enrapturing, really. And with the sight, your orgasm becomes close.

“C–Can I cum inside you, mommy?”

“Ah, y–yes, baby boy. I–I don’t mind,” she moans through her high.

And you let go.

Giselle

“We should’ve done a Drawing Lots for this,” Aeri sneers, before striding towards you. “You draw all of his cum out.”

Jimin chuckles.

“Aeri, y–you don’t h–have to–”

She seals your lips with a torrid kiss, invading your exhausted mouth so easily. She moans into that slut mouth of yours, and her hands find where Karina failed to—your ass. She squeezes them, knead that supple rear of yours. Until she pulls back. And you’re in her embrace, protected, yet still used.

“M–Mommy.” Your mouth is still trying to close the distance between you two.

“Good boy.” And she strokes your hair, each brimmed with an undeniable care. “Now let me ride you, okay? I promise I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“Y–Yes, mommy.”

“Oh, and–” she slides her dampened purple panties down, before bringing it close to your mouth. The scent of her sweat, her essence, they’re all there. “–put this in your mouth, please.”

You are too happy to oblige, opening your mouth to take in the taste and scent of her core just immediately. You feel the texture of the fabric. God, her aroma just gets you up and running again.

“Good boy,” she says, before straddling your legs in the same fashion as Jimin did. She’s riding you just like her.

“F–Fuck me please, mommy,” you plead with the garment in your mouth.

She sinks down your useless dick with gentleness. She goes slowly, making your pain more tolerable.

“Hhngn, mommy~”

“Good boy, good boy,” she says. Her rhythm grows more impatient to make you cum again. And in mere seconds, you feel it, that aftershock. It runs through your body. It seeps everywhere.

“M–Mommy, I–I’m gonna cum,” you state.

“Oh, baby boy, not so soon~ I’m just starting to have fun with you.” Aeri giggles.

“I–I’m sorry, mommy, but I really have to, ngh.”

Aeri is still giggling. 

“Fine, baby boy. But remember–” she leans closer to your ear. “–I’m the best.”

Winter

“G–Girls, do I really h–have to do this?” Minjeong stammers. Her fingers are toying with the hem of her tight shorts.

“It’s up to you, Minjeong,” Jimin responds, bringing her hands to rest on the edge of the sofa. “We’re doing this for fun, after all.”

“Hmm… eh, not much to lose, anyway,” Minjeong says, shrugging, and she takes her shorts off promptly, uncovering her black panties underneath.

“Minjeong, come on. Do you really–”

“Yes, baby boy, I’m fucking that cock!”

“That’s the spirit, Minjeong,” Jimin adds.

Minjeong pushes her panties down, revealing another bare, unshaved cunt you’re taking for the night. She looks mouthwatering, but that’s not going into your mouth tonight.

“Minjeong, please, I’m–”

“Sh–Shut up, slut.”

She strides towards you, hands shaking as she does.

“M–Mom–”

“Nuh uh, b–baby boy. Get ready again.”

“Yeah, like that, Minjeong!” Yizhuo cheers, her hands up in the air.

She closes her distance until only a hot breath separates you two.

And she plants her lips on yours. Her tongue slots into your mouth smoothly. You feel her wet, berry-flavored lips. Her hands roam on your tight body, feeling your sweaty abdomen.

“Damn,” Jimin says.

Within the deep kiss, she impales herself down your used cock, sending another wave of indescribable pain through your body.

“Hngh, mommy!” you scream.

“J–Just stay quiet, baby.” And Minjeong starts her tango. She moves up and down so smoothly on your dick, all while snatching another kiss away from you, piercing your whore mouth.

Her cunt is so damn tight. Every centimeter of her walls hugs you with dexterity, grazing every vein and every ridge masterfully. And you can feel your cum leaking out yet again, after Jimin and Aeri fucked that useless cock out.

“M–Mommy, I–I’m sorry,” you apologize.

“Hey, i–it’s okay, baby, you don’t have to–ah!”

Ningning

“Fucking finally~” Yizhuo sings, getting up from her chair, as your groans fill the room, eliciting giggles from the other three women.

“Give us a show, Yizhuo!” Jimin says. “Make him pass out!”

Dread passes through you. You can’t anymore, you can’t do this, fuck.

“P–P–Please, Yi–”

And a slap lands on your cheek. That shit stings.

“Ugh, god, how many times do we have to tell you that mommy is the only acceptable term!” she says with an incomparable annoyance.

You can only whimper.

“I gotta fuck some sense into this slut, don’t I?” Yizhuo rhetorically asks the laughing Jimin, and that only sends her into a bigger laughter.

Yizhuo snatches her performance shorts and takes them off, revealing her pale, meaty thighs. “M–Mommy, p–please.”

“Shut up, slut, if you’re going to pass out, I don’t fucking care.”

“Ngh.”

“Now, let me–” she pushes her panties aside, trying to give her cunt easy access for you. “–get this shit off.”

You watch in awe—this fiery, raging woman trying to get her pussy fucked by your useless cock. Again, by a miracle, your length twitches in excitement, despite having its essence squeezed out for three times in a mere twenty minutes.

“Ready, bitch boy?” she playfully asks.

Her muscular legs straddle yours, and without a warning, she sinks down.

Her cunt feels utterly indescribable. You moan as loudly as imaginable, from the sensitivity of your dick and the tightness of her walls. “Ah!”

“Yes, yes, yes, stretch me out like that, boy toy,” Yizhuo says as she slams down your length. Her movement is aggressive, determined to milk your cock dry. “God, you aren’t so useless after all.”

“Nghhn, m–mommy, can I suck your tits?” you ask.

Yizhuo bursts out a laugh. “Sure, slut.” Before she pulls up the thin piece of fabric to give you the access.

You’re so eager to put those tits into your mouth as you immediately lock your lips on her taut nipples.

“G–God, you’re such a fucking whore, don’t you?” Yizhuo moans.

“Yes, mommy.”

Yizhuo chuckles. God, you’re so pathetic at this point. She keeps relentlessly slamming her thighs onto yours, whimpering at every rhythm played. 

And you can feel it .Her hoarse moans and whimpers only send you into an upward spiral. Each graze of her cunt on your cock only drives you to the hopefully final climax.

“M–Mommy, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Fucking hell, you pervert. I was just having fun,” Yizhuo scoffs. “Guess I’ll just have to take your cum, won’t I?”

“Y–Yes, mommy.” You thrust upwards with her motions. Your body is almost going limp right now.

“Ugh, paint my insides with whatever’s left, you fucking whore.”

Your cock sends spurts of cum into her cunt, or whatever that is left. Her movements are determined to milk you dry.

And your vision turns black.

—

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 4

In which the real world threatens to ruin your happiness.

Warnings: angsttttttttt :) fluff at the end tho!! Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 3.6k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted:

yourusername life lately ❤️ BFFSarah omg, someone who loves pizza just as much as Stelly Belly??? >>>yourusername they polished off a large pizza between the two of them. It was a sight to see. >>>land-ho WE WERE HUNGRY. >>>yourusername you bet my six year old she couldn't eat 4 pieces of pizza, sir. >>>land-ho AND SHE PUT DOWN FIVE! Proudest moment of my LIFE. >>>yourusername 🙄

land-ho (private) posted

land-ho party of three? smoooooth_operator it was good to see you two last night! >>>yourusername dinner was delicious, C!! tell R thank you for all the shopping reccos in Barcelona 🤭 >>>landonorris oh god, my wallet already hurts >>>yourusername well now i'm never going to beat the sugar baby allegations. >>>honeybadger y'all are a walking PR nightmare waiting to happen. kelly_pickme i must meet your two favorite girls soon! bring them to Monaco soon! >>>yourusername 😘 did L give M the lion plushie and princess dress for baby and P? can't wait to meet you all soon!! >>>kelly_pickme yes! P hasn't taken it off and the lion is a hit as well. >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

Miami May, 2025

"Okay, anything else you guys want to talk about before we start filming?" Victor, the team's head of communications, asks on Thursday afternoon.

Victor sits in one of the several conference rooms located in McLaren's hospitality suite surrounded by the rest of the communications team as well as Lando and Oscar. The weekend debrief is wrapping up as he asks one last question.

"Actually, kind of." Lando clears his throat, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

The entire team turns to him then and he feels his face go a bit red. He hadn't really planned on making a big deal of this in front of the team but after his meeting with Zak earlier, he thought he should at least let the comms team in on what he was going to do tonight.

"What's up?" Victor prompts, tucking his iPad under his arm.

"Well, it's more of a 'heads up' kind of thing but Zak thought I should let you guys know that I'm planning on going public with my girlfriend tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lando sees Oscar smirk. He can almost hear the 'well it's about time' teasing he's about to get when they wrap up this meeting.

Victor blinks, casting a sideways glance at Melanie, Lando's main press officer for the weekend. He could tell Victor was reluctant to agree but in all honesty, this wasn't his call and Lando was ready to make that known. "What were you planning on doing?"

Melanie pulls out a notepad to take notes, just in case she's asked about the relationship this weekend.

You were also in Miami this weekend for your second race of the season and the subject had come up last night as you were cuddled up in bed after Lando had posted about you and Stella on his private account for the first time. You had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring the team or Lando any drama during the race weekend but he had been insistent. While you hadn't been together officially for very long, you spent nearly every spare moment together and Stella had become a huge part of Lando's life too. He was tired of being linked to endless Instagram models and having to hide you away from the public.

Lando shrugs. "Nothing big or anything, just a post of my feed with her, some kind of witty caption."

"She's the one who works in the accounting department?" Melanie asks.

Lando can't help but glare at the woman. She's in her mid-30s with mousey brown hair and wire rimmed glasses. Melanie was kind enough but sometimes Lando wondered if she had any of the media training that was forced on him and Oscar with the kinds of questions she asked him.

"No, she's on the product development team, and she's right over there." Lando tips his chin towards the large glass windows that looks out onto the rest of the hospitality suite where you sit at one of the tables typing away at your laptop.

"Isn't she a single mom?"

Again, Lando glares at Melanie as the rest of the team shifts uncomfortably in their seat. Sure, it was their job to handle any press inquiries that came into the office and sometimes there were personal questions that got asked, but that one was toeing the line of appropriate.

"I don't see why that makes any sort of difference." Oscar surprises everyone by speaking up, his tone a bit colder than usual. "I've worked with her a lot lately, she's a lovely person and wicked smart. Lando's a lucky guy."

"Thanks, mate." Lando murmurs before turning back to Victor. "HR is aware of our relationship and, not that it should matter," Lando looks pointedly at Melanie once again, and is pleased to see her look a bit sheepish as if she's just realized how inappropriate her questions had been. "But Zak is also aware that we're together and has given us his blessing too."

That had been an awkward conversation but Lando admired the McLaren CEO too much to leave him in the dark about something that involved his two employees. He'd scoured the McLaren employee handbook (thankfully there was nothing in it against fraternization of employees, so HR hadn't been a problem either) before approaching Zak first to tell him about the relationship. If there was anyone that Zak Brown loved more than Lando, it was you so of course he had been ecstatic at the news and had immediately given the relationship his full support.

Without waiting for further comment from anyone, Lando gets up and strides out the door, furious at how the ending of the meeting had gone. There were far more problematic WAGs in the paddock and you were a McLaren employee after all, shouldn't you expect the same support from the team as he did? He didn't really understand why it was such a big deal that you were a single mom or technically a coworker.

From your spot in the middle of the hospitality suite you can see when Lando walks out of the conference room, hyper aware of the way his shoulders are hitched up towards his ears, something that only happens when he's upset or stressed.

"Momma!" Your attention is drawn back to your phone where Stella sits on FaceTime before her bath for the evening. You'd been distracted by Lando's sudden shift in mood and had stopped listening to her mid-story.

"Sorry, baby. I'm listening. You and Cora had a good playdate today, yeah?"

Stella prattles on, seemingly satisfied with the half-attention you're now paying her again. But your focus is pulled elsewhere for a moment as you watch a girl you know is on the comms team follow Lando out of the conference room and into his drivers room. You couldn't remember her name but knew that she was working with Lando this weekend as his press officer so it didn't impress you as unusual that she was following him. Maybe something had been said in the meeting and she was going to try to calm him down.

"Momma, can I talk to Lando now?" Stella sighs and you grin. You were beginning to think that your daughter loved Lando a bit more than you the way she constantly asked about him and wanted to see him.

"I think he just walked into a meeting, S but how about we do this. Why don't you go take a bath and by the time you're done, Lando should be finished with his meeting and you can talk to him then."

Stella nods, seemingly happy about the arrangement. You say a quick goodbye before packing up your laptop to go check in on Lando. You were essentially done for the day so you had planned on hanging out with a few of the engineers during their meetings this afternoon before going to dinner with Lando later that night. And then you fully planned on spending the rest of the evening underneath your boyfriend.

You can see the door to Lando's driver's room ajar and you can hear raised voices floating out. Hesitating, you pause with your hand on the door handle. The conversation sounded heated and you didn't want to interrupt. You swear you didn't want to eavesdrop but Lando's shouting didn't leave you much choice.

"What the fuck do you mean the team doesn't want a 'Kelly Piquet 2.0 situation?"

Oh. Oh dear.

You had known Lando was going to tell the team of his plan to hard launch you on his socials tonight and by the sounds of it, it hadn't gone well.

"Lando," The woman, you think her name is Melanie or something, tries to sooth him. "All we're saying is maybe you should think of how this could impact her daughter. When Max and Kelly went public, it was a shit show."

"Yeah, because her father is a racist piece of shit." He spits.

"And she was accused of being a predator!" Melanie fires back. "All I'm saying is that maybe right now isn't the best time to launch a potentially controversial girlfriend."

Your blood goes cold. Controversial? There was nothing in your past that you were ashamed about. No racist relatives. No sex tape scandals or even potentially embarassing photos somewhere out on the internet. You had, all things considered, a pretty wholesome reputation. Everyone at McLaren loved you, as far as you were aware. With the apparent exception of Melanie.

"Controversial? Please, elaborate." Lando's voice goes deadly calm, as if he knows exactly what she's going to say but wants her to say it out loud.

"Lando." Melanie sighs and you take a step back, unsure if you want to hear what she has to say. "She's a young, single mom who got knocked up at nineteen years old." Melanie practically laughs, as if Lando is a complete idiot for not understanding. "There's no way she won't be seen as a gold digger or worse! She's going to be eaten alive on socials. I'm only looking out for her daughter's reputation. Don't be so naive, Norris."

Your fists clench up so tightly, the bite of your nails in your palms pulls you out of a near rage. It takes every ounce of control not to go straight into Lando's room and give that bitch a piece of your mind.

On the other side of the door, Lando swears he sees red and has to take a step away. "This is about your workload, isn't it? You don't want to deal with the awkward questions and the drama? Listen very closely to me, Melanie okay? Because I'm not going to repeat myself." The venom in Lando's voice startles you. "The three of us are a package deal now, do you understand? I am madly in love with that woman out there and her little girl? Her little girl is the center of my world too. I don't give a flying fuck if me being with her means more work for you, that's too fucking bad. If you can't handle it, I'm positive Zak will be happy to replace you. She's here to stay, you are replaceable. Understood?"

Hearing Lando say he loves you and Stella has your world tilting underneath your feet. He'd never said that to you before even though you'd been confident for a while now that he did feel that way. And that you felt the same way.

Melanie's reply is so soft, you don't hear it but moments later, the door flies open so fast you're forced to jump back bit. Melanie's flushed face looks horrified when she sees you standing in the hall. She can't hold eye contact with you for longer than a flicker of a moment before she's dashing down the hall.

Lando stands in the doorway looking horrified that you're standing there. "How much of that did you hear?"

Tears burn at the back of your eyes, your anger at Melanie now replaced with sheer embarrassment. Even if she had been the one to voice it, you were certain Melanie wasn't the only one who was thinking the same thing.

"Everything." You whisper as you look away, brushing at a tear that rolls hotly down your face.

"Goddamnit." Lando swears, shoving a hand through his curls. He hadn't even noticed his door was open after Melanie had followed after him. "Baby..." He reaches for you and you let him pull you to him, his steady warmth a comforting feeling as the panic rises in your chest.

"She's right, you know." You whisper into his chest so softly Lando nearly misses it.

Lando pulls back and the look of desperation on his face nearly breaks your heart. "What are you talking about?"

"The hate we're going to get. I'm going to get. She had a point, you have to admit. I'm a young, single mom dating a millionaire? People are going to think all I'm interested in is your money, just like they did with Kelly."

"Who cares what people think? Who cares what they say about us? The people in our lives that really matter know that's not why you're with me. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Until they start in on Stella. Have you seen some of the things they say about P?"

You were pretty confident you could handle any hate that you got but you knew that the moment you saw any hate towards your little girl, you'd be devastated. It had been something you'd been thinking about since Lando had brought up going public last night but you had been able to brush it aside. It hadn't seemed possible, the worry seeming far away and a little over dramatic but now? Now Melanie's words had anxiety twisting in your stomach.

"That's not going to happen." Lando pulls you deeper into his chest and nuzzles into your neck. He can practically feel you pulling away from him and terror shoots through him.

"You don't know that. Even if it doesn't, do you really want to spend the rest of this relationship constantly defending me? Defending us? That's no way to live, Lando. Melanie was right. I'm controversial and maybe we need to rethink this."

Lando's entire world stops spinning, his breath catching in his throat. "Wh...What? No, baby, no. Please don't do this. Don't pull away. Melanie is being hysterical. Nothing like that is going to happen."

If he had to get on his knees and beg you not to leave him, Lando would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm not doing anything, I just need a minute to think okay?" You step out of his grasp, instantly missing his touch. You can't even look him in the eye, knowing that if you do you'll crumble. But you can't think of Lando or even yourself right now. "I have to consider what's best for Stella, okay?"

"Don't do this." Lando begs.

"I think I'm going to stay in my own room tonight." You whisper, voice straining with emotion as you barely contain the heartache in your tone.

"Is this the end?" Lando chokes out as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He's sure you'd step away if he tried to touch you right now and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of rejection from you. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him and the only thing that could right this was you.

Tears stream down your face as you struggle for an answer. "No." You tell him after a moment and the relief that floods Lando's face nearly breaks your heart. "I just need some space to think is all, I promise."

"Can we still have dinner tonight?"

"I think it'd be best if I just spend the evening alone." It hurts, saying those words because you rarely get this much alone time with Lando but you need space so badly your skin begins to itch. You're desperate to get some distance from the paddock and the team and even Lando himself, to right yourself back to the proper head space. You had to consider Stella above your own heart.

If it was possible to die from a broken heart, Lando knew he was about to find out. He lets you go though, watching miserably from the spot he's rooted to on his floor as you back away slowly, almost like you're retreating from a dangerous animal or something.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

All he can do is nod as he watches you walk out the door for what he hopes isn't the last time.

You're just finishing the last bits of your makeup when there's a knock on your door Friday morning. You were a bit surprised because you knew full well that Lando had a key but the fact that he was nervous to use it after what had happened yesterday tugs at something in your chest.

You had been in the shower when he texted you that morning and the string of texts nearly broke your heart. You hadn't wanted to put him through that kind of pain but you had needed to take a moment to think through what had happened with Melanie and the comms team yesterday.

Slipping the robe Lando had gotten you in Japan a few weeks ago, you pad towards the door to open it. You're stopped completely in your tracks when you swing it open and get a glimpse of Lando in the hallway. He looks absolutely ravaged, like he didn't sleep a single second the night before, eyes red rimmed and puffy.

"Lan..." You whisper, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You reach for him, utterly perplexed suddenly as to why you had felt you needed distance from him.

When he folds you into his arms, the damn finally breaks and you sob into him, the entire previous day's emotions coming to a head. The way you finally feel complete when he's got you in his arms is unlike anything you've ever felt and for a brief moment yesterday, you had forgotten that fact.

When he kisses you, cradling your head in his hands, everything else quiets. The doubts, the fear, the anxiety. It all fades into the background with his lips on yours and you sigh into his mouth. For the first time on 24 hours you feel relieved, like you can actually tackle this issue instead of feeling like you're going to drown in your own thoughts.

Lando tugs you over to the bed, pulling you into his lap as he sits against the headboard. You tuck into his body as close as you can, head folded into that space between his neck and shoulder, drinking in the smell of him: fresh from the shower and slightly spicy from his cologne.

For several minutes, you both just sit there. Lando struggles to contain the relief that is flooding his body. He'd been absolutely miserable last night, eventually working himself into a panic attack at the thought of losing you and Stella. There was such a gaping hole in his soul when he thought about the prospect of you walking away, it scared him to death. He had never planned on falling for you, had resisted it for a bit, trying to convince himself that it was too quick to be feeling the way he did. Last night though? Last night had showed him he was further gone than he had ever expected.

"Did you mean what you said to Melanie yesterday?" You mumble into his neck after a few moments.

"Every word." Lando says without a moment of hesitation. "But is there a specific part you want me to confirm?"

You chuckle, pulling away so you can look him in the face. "The part where you said we're a package deal? That you love love us both?"

Lando brings his hands up to face your frame and you can't help but lean into him. "Of course I meant it. I'd do anything for either of you. I thought we'd established that, baby."

You drop your gaze from his then, somewhat knocked off center by the intensity of his gaze. "I'm sorry I got spooked. I'm just so used to doing this all on my own, no one ever wants to stay."

"Do you remember what I told you the first night we spent together in Bahrain?"

You blink, a small smile playing on your lips for the first time that morning. "You said a lot that night."

Lando rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. "It was after you had fallen asleep and I got up to get a drink of water. When I came back to bed, you curled right into me and said you thought I'd left you. You asked me to never leave you and and I told you I'd never leave you. I didn't mean it for just that night though."

Your heart thunders in your chest. You didn't remember that at all but the fact that he had said those words to you all those months ago. He'd been as far gone for you back then as you had.

"I love you more than words can say." He whispers and all you can do is nod back, emotion choking out your ability to speak for a few moments.

Lando reaches under your chin after a beat, lifting your face so he can see you. "Nobody said this was going to be easy but if we do this together, it'll be okay. You've got to trust me on this, baby. The team is fully supportive, I swear to you. Zak, Andrea, Oscar. Everyone that matters is on our side. I know you're scared and you want to protect Stella but you can't give up on our happiness because of some stupid people on the internet that don't matter."

Pain shoots through you, bright and quick as a lightning bolt as realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Something becomes crystal clear in that moment and you find yourself nodding.

"You're right. I know you are. I want Stella to see me choose myself instead of sacrificing my happiness for some stupid what ifs." It isn't until Lando says what he does that you're able to finally put into words what you've slowly been coming to realize over the last few hours. You'd been scared to admit it, scared that choosing yourself in this meant you were putting Stella second but when Lando tells you that you can't give up your own happiness to protect her, everything clicks into place.

"I want her to know that she can do hard things and choose her own path and if i listen to Melanie all I show her is that the bullies win."

"That's my girl." Lando praises, pulling you into another soul shattering kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

"Lan..." You pull away suddenly, eyes going wide. "The reason I was outside your driver's room yesterday was because Stella demanded to talk to you before bed and then..." You drop the sentence, the memory of yesterday slicing through you once again. "Do we have time to call her now? She was so mad at me last night when I said you were too busy to talk."

"Don't you ever tell my Stelly Belly I'm too busy to talk to her again." He teases before grabbing his phone. "Is she with Sarah today? They had a half day, didn't they. She was all about going to the cinema with Sarah today last time I talked to her."

The smile that settles on your face is nothing short of brilliant. For the first time in nearly 24 hours, you finally feel settled, like everything had righted itself after being so very briefly run off course. "Lets see if she can talk now before the get to the show."

landonorris posted

789,039 likes liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, BFFSarah, and others landonorris did someone say 'hard launch'? user029 oh she's PRETTY PRETTY yourusername <3 >>>user029 ugh, profile's private but SHE HAS A CHILD??? >>>user2992 if this means we're going to get dad lando content the same yaer we get dad max content, the internet may not survive BFFSarah can i like this more than once!?! <3 user0299 OMG WAIT I saw her in the background of tv shots this weekend except she was in a McLaren team kit. LANDO NOT DATING AN INFLUENCER??? >>>user3422 didn't know he had it in him >>>user000 god, i am such a sucker for a workplace romance trope

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[jjkbambi]

the morning after luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! part two of is it new years yet because you do not get back together just cuz he has good dick OMG 🖕🖕🖕🖕😒 he also has a great personality and loves eating pussy

warnings: smut, kinda angsty, he’s manipulative but honestly he’s such a nice guy, you should really give him a second chance

^ not edited let’s alll just practice gratitude 🙏

seven days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

that’s how long it had been since luigi had seen you. not that he’d been counting, he was truly trying to be normal about the distance this time around.

he replays the morning after on a loop, searching for the slightest hint he’d done something wrong to no avail. as a matter of fact, your quiet body was beside him until deep into the afternoon, nothing but soft snores exchanged between the two of you. he wakes before you, kissing your forehead before taking his leave. his frat brothers whistle at him as he enters the wretchedly messy house, throwing him a water.

“happy new year, big guy,” one of them, hasan, greets. “did’ya spend your night thinking about new goals or scoring the same one?”

luigi rolls his eyes. “fuck off.”

another brother chimes in, bright-eyed. “when are we meeting her?”

“in your dreams.”

he had no intention of sharing you in any way; the thought of anyone else even looking at you irritated him. but starting the new year off by your side was far too great a fate to be stoic about. he grabs a plate of what’s left of their shitty communal breakfast (jar salsa from the night before, scrambled eggs, and two pieces of mostly burnt toast) and brings it into your room.

“y/n,” he calls out while entering. the door to the bathroom is now closed, and he sees your shadow shuffling around the room.

hesitant, the door creaks open. youre back in your black minidress, holding onto your heels. “hey, pretty.”

“hi,” you say tightly, the mistakes and soreness from the night before lingering in your mind. you’ve just wiped away the tears still streaked on your face, yet your ex-boyfriend hardly looks hungover.

“dressed up just for me?” he jokes, kissing your cheek. he offers you the plate of food but you shake your head.

“lacy’s waiting for me. i’ve got to go.”

“stay,” he says, his voice honey-sweet, like the boyfriend you knew months ago. it makes you feel sick, the familiarity of it all suffocating you. the room feels too small.

you push away from him. “i have to go.”

“baby,” he drops everything he’s holding to grab you again. “what’s wrong? is everything alright?”

he always blows your mind with his audacity. “no, everything’s not alright, luigi,” you spit back. “we shouldn’t have—none of that should’ve happened.”

“what do you mean?”

“luigi,” you sigh. “we’re over, alright? it’s done.”

“y/n—”

“i mean it,” you raise your voice so slightly, but still it breaks. “you cheated on me, then pulled all this shit, i can’t do it anymore.”

“you can’t do it anymore? are you serious?”

“yes!”

“you ignored me for weeks then showed up at my fucking party, dressed like that,” his voice was low, but angry. brows furrowed, he doesn’t lose his grip on you. it scares you. “you can’t tell me you weren’t bartering for my attention.”

“i wasn’t.”

his jaw sets. “then who’s?”

“oh my god. nobody’s!”

“don’t fucking lie to me—”

“lu, stop, seriously.” your voice trembles this time, and you both notice it. he drops your hand.

“i didnt mean to hurt you,” he says, soft at your upset. “i swear—i dont remember cheating on you. i’m not gonna mess up like that again, i promise.”

he leans in to kiss you, to seal the pledge with his gentle touch, but you pull back. “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to hurt me—you did. you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.“

his big brown eyes bear into yours and he swears, “i can make it up to you.”

“luigi,” you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until he brings his hands up to wipe your tears away. “i just don’t think this is a good idea, i’m sorry.”

“come on,” he says, frowning. “i love you. only you.” his lean-in to kiss you is successful this time. the kiss feels much better—softer—than last night’s. he’s gentle with his desperation, intent on making you stay. “‘m sorry, okay?” he says between kisses. “let me make it better.”

“no, luigi, we shouldn’t—”

“you’ve got to hear me out, y/n,” he takes your lips again. his hot kisses move down your neck—and it all feels so different this time around. even the air in the room feels lighter. his voice is against your ear when he swears, “i’ll be good to you, sweetheart, i promise.”

saying no to him is near impossible—it’s why you shut yourself off of him for weeks, avoiding places he frequented, deactivating your social media, ignoring his constant stream of messages and calls. now, he has you, and within minutes, you’re pressed against the wall again.

“feels good?” he teases, grinding his hard-on into your core. you melt underneath him, you can’t help it, he’s so warm.

“lu,” you whimper. you’re still sensitive from how selfishly he took you the night before, you can’t help but react to his touch so quickly. it felt so raw.

“wait—” he never does. his hands are on your hips again, moving your body against his.

“just let me take care of you,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck again. this time, he was sure to leave marks.

he keeps the dress on this time. he places you back onto the bed, and as you gather the courage to take him in again, he moves beneath you.

“knew i recognized these,” his voice hot against the fabric of your panties.

you told yourself the lacy black panties were just meant to match the dress, but it all seemed so intentional—the party crash, the kitchen drive-by, the fact that you were wearing his valentines day gift. whether this was a manifestation of your greatest fear or desire, you couldn’t tell.

he kisses your thighs, then runs his tongue against your core through the fabric of your panties before ceremoniously ripping them off. he kisses and sucks at your wetness. you tremble at the suddenness of his movement. his big nose is so prominent in your pussy, you can’t help but grind yourself against his perfect face and whine as he drinks you in.

“you’re such a fucking mess,” luigi says, smiling into your warmth. his unshaven stubble tickles your sensitive cunt, sending a tremor through you. “so wet, i’ve barely even touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” you whimper.

he grabs your ass, pulling you closer to his relentless mouth. it’s ridiculous how good he feels. he’s completely shameless in his endeavor to ruin you.

“look at me,” luigi orders, so you do. you look down to see him, finding that he’s already gotten to touching himself. his hard length at the edge of the bed, furiously red, as he strokes himself. “i think about you everyday,” he admits in between licking at your core. “i missed how this pretty pussy tasted. i missed having you like this. holding you down so you can’t squirm away. missed hearing you beg.”

you’re almost there, fidgeting underneath his hands. “luigi, please. it’s too much.”

“you’ve taken worse,” he growls into you.

he feels like he’s on fire. one hand moves up and down along his cock fervently, while the other lends itself to fingering your frothing pussy. you mewl at the sudden entry, back arching.

“luigi,” you whine. “please.”

“i’m trying to do a nice thing for you, y/n,” he hums, “but you want me to be selfish, hm? want me to take you?”

“yes,” you say, breathless.

“fuckin’ slut,” he grumbles, pulling himself away from your wet cunt. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “what d’you want from me, huh?”

“want you.”

“course you do,” luigi says, surprising you with hard slaps against your sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, the unfamiliar storm of bliss and torment, and he chuckles darkly. “you fuckin’ belong to me.”

he grabs your chin and forces you into another kiss, your wetness now staining you both. he lifts your leg up and slides himself back into your wet warmth. “you’re dripping,” he praises as he pounds into you. the exhilarating pain sets your senses alight, you grip onto him tighter without even realizing. “all for me, yeah?”

“all for you.” you nod. this is not how you expected this conversation to go. you writhe at how big he is, how hard.

“you can take it,” he grunts. he’s not fast, this time—his thrusts are agonizingly slow and tortuously deep—just as you think it’s all entirely too much, one hand grips your clothed tit, the other lifts to cradle your chin, forcing your lips to part open. he spits into your mouth. “swallow,” he orders.

you do.

“good girl,” he places sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw, your neck, then goes to bite at your tits. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

“i thought about you too,” you admit sheepishly, out of your mind. he looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “i missed you.”

to your surprise, he scoffs. “fuckin’ bitch.” he suddenly loses the interest in being gentle with you, returning to your body rough and angry. his fingers massage against your clit, unraveling you. “you’re just as crazy as i am, you know that? running around town like you don’t belong to me. like you don’t touch yourself late at night thinking about this cock. wishing those fingers were half as good as mine, huh? fuckin’ idiot.”

“luigi,” you cry out. was this him being nice?

“be a good girl f’me,” he grunts. he feels you pulse around his cock and drives into you with even more force. “cum all over me, baby. have my fuckin’ kids.”

“luigi,” you mewl again, desperate for release.

“come on, pretty, show me how good it feels.”

his lips return to yours, hot wet and desperate, as he cums inside of you. you’re a complete mess—squirming and whimpering as you unravel onto his cock, he catches your moans with kisses and leaves you shaking underneath him.

“good girl,” he hums, kissing your forehead.

for a fleeting moment, the two of you are perfect. everything feels just right. he slips into the spot beside you, the disarray of tangled sheets forgotten as he pulls you into his warmth. you sink into the nape of his neck, and though there are no more words spoken, the air is thick with an undeniable love, quiet but all encompassing.

but when he stirs awake, reaching for you, all that lingers is the soft, fading smell of your spring perfume.

MASTERLIST send requests ! <3

[verstappen-cult]

If you are taking requests, i was thinking of a poly!lestappen. Where the reader is a F1 presenter and she's excited that Oliver is doing hus debut at Ferrari because its one of her favorite drivers in F2 and both Max and Charles get jealous. Like she asks Charles to take care of Oliver since he's still 18 and its his debut.

You still have forty minutes to spare until you have to go live, so, you make your way to the track, where everyone’s waiting for the Drivers Parade.

You spot your boys pretty easily, they are standing close but deep in conversation with different people. Max is talking with his teammate and Lando, while Charles is talking with Ollie. You really don’t want to interrupt but the Monégasque has already seen you, and for the looks of it, he’s telling the younger boy about you because he turns his head in your direction, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Charles greets you, his arm finding your waist in a second. He loves having you close to him, touching any part of your body.

“Hey, Charlie.” You kiss his cheek, wiping the lipstick stain. “How are you feeling, Ollie? You did amazing yesterday!”

The british boy blushes, a shy smile dancing across his lips. “Oh, thank you. I’m excited and nervous too.” He looks at Charles for a second before turning to you. “Charles has given me some advice, so, I’m feeling a little more confident.”

Lewis calls Ollie’s name, waving at him from the back of the room.

“I’ll see you after the race, I hope?” The younger boy asks, and you nod. He waves goodbye to you and his teammate for a day, and walks away.

“Did you came here to give us a good luck kiss?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice behind you and then a kiss being placed on the top of your head.

“You know it’s something that would never change.” You stand on your tiptoes, kissing Max’s lips briefly, turning to Charles you do the same. “but I also came here to tell you to take care of Ollie,” You say looking at your brown-haired boyfriend. “But you are already doing a good job, so,” This time you look at Max, giving him your best puppy eyes. “Would you do that for me? Just wish him good luck or something before the race, I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

Charles and Max look at you with eyebrows raised, confusion in his eyes.

“What?”

“You came here for that?” Charles says, sounding a little hurt.

“I came here to give my boyfriends a good luck kiss like I always do,” You try to explain that by talking slowly. “But I also came for Ollie. I’ve known him and his family for as long as I’ve known you two.”

But that’s not enough for them, because Max rolls his eyes and looks away.

Okay. They’re acting weird.

“Wait,” You try not to laugh when a thought crosses your mind. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

They avoid making eye contact.

“Oh my God,” And this time you laugh, because you can’t believe it. Sometimes you forget how childish they are. “You are jealous of an eighteen year old boy. Are you aware of that?”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

You shake your head, closing the distance between you and Charles to kiss him one last time. You do exactly the same with Max.

“Good luck, pretty boys.” They watch you walk away, but then you are turning around, stopping to glare at them. “If you don’t take care of Ollie, we won’t be celebrating tonight.”

“What? That’s so unfair!”

“He’s the enemy!”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you should tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decides to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards. Why do you not wish to hold him like you did last night?

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."

[aquadios]

JAKE & THE COLLEGE SCENERY : pair sim jaeyun x fem genre college fluff minor angst friend of a friend to lovers warning suggestive ish also not proofread !! wc est. 09k-1k

COLLEGE!JAKE who you met when you chased after the morning bus, your roommate kept snoozing your alarm until you only had five minutes left to get ready, get breakfast and catch the bus—which ultimately left you.

“oh my god! i’m so sorry,” you fell with a big oof, dropping all of your books. however, your gaze wasn’t on the boy you just slammed into the concrete, instead it was on the bus that became smaller and smaller.

COLLEGE!JAKE who simply smiles at you while picking up your books for you. all you could do was mumble sorry after sorry when seeing his bleeding knuckles—he had tried breaking your fall when you ran into him but landed on his knuckles.

“no worries, happens all the time.” you both stand up and you finally get a better view. the boy adorns a bright smile and chocolate brown hair. he’s wearing the universities jacket—you’ve never seen someone look so good in school merch.

COLLEGE!JAKE who you run into yet again during your free period when one of your friend’s calls you over to their table. as you speak to jongseong about the lesson in marketing 101, jake can’t help but smirk at your nervous demeanor.

“this is jake by the way, he’s single.” jongseong wiggles his brows while patting jake’s shoulders. “yeah, i almost broke his hand this morning,” you let out a low chuckle. “sorry again, i was actually gonna look for you to give you this.” it’s a handkerchief you maid back in middle school.

COLLEGE!JAKE who stares at the handkerchief with your initials until his eyes physically burn. he isn’t sure why you had such an impact on his soul; every thought that crossed his mind was about you.

COLLEGE!JAKE who can’t help but search for you at a party after jongseong said you’d be there. he ignores the people at the ping pong table calling his name and the girl’s sitting on the couch calling him over. he’s here for one thing, and it’s you.

COLLEGE!JAKE who finds his feet moving at a faster pace when he sees you hanging around the pool with your group of friends. your laugh echo’s through the crisp air and he thinks it might be his new favorite sound.

“are you sure your friends won’t miss you?” you question when you notice everyone trying to catch his attention. jake shakes his head while he continues to drag you to an empty room with a bottle of wine in his hand. “nah, and even if they did, i’d rather be here with you.” he closes the door behind him, facing you with a look of sincerity. “i don’t think i’ve been able to stop thinking about you since we ran into each other.” jake intertwines you hands with his.

COLLEGE!JAKE who isn’t afraid of showing his feelings. as you both lay in whoever’s bed staring at one another with the tipsiness of the alcohol running through you, you notice his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“i’m surprised jongseong has never mentioned you before,” you lean your head on your shoulder. “likewise.” jake moves a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his thumb roam your warm skin. “if he hadn’t introduced me to you sooner, i think this night would end differently.” “and why’s that?” you inquire when jake begins to lean in. “because i wouldn’t be confident enough to kiss you.” his lips crash down onto yours—enough to knock you onto your back with his lips desperately wanting more.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who waits outside each of your classes to scare you. his hands encircle your waist as he kisses up your neck towards your cheek. his day gets a million times better simply being in your presence.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who begs you to stay in bed longer even after you’ve gone through every single one of your alarms.

“i can’t miss today, i have a presentation jake.” although relishing in his touch, you try to make an escape. keyword: try. “just let jay do it, he’ll find a way to get you a good grade.” jake hides his head deeper into your neck while wrapping all of his limbs around you. his lips leave wet kisses all over your skin knowing you’d give in.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t hide his jealousy very well. he knows you’re loyal but who’s he to say that his girlfriend isn’t attractive? jake sulks all day until you baby him, or he’ll be extremely quiet. this day happened to be the latter.

“why are you so quiet?” you frown while turning to look at jake. you were over at sunghoon’s for a movie night, like every other night, just this time sunghoon had invited a friend who was known for having a crush on you. jake shakes his head. “you know you’re always gonna be the one for me.” you whisper in your boyfriend’s ear before turning back to the movie. jake smiles into your hair, and in return, he slides his hands up your shirt drawing circles.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who says things in the heat of the moment but regrets it later on when he’s missing you late at night. you’re on the couch and he’s in the bed hugging your pillow, but your scent washed away days ago. he hates that he drove you to sleep angry, he hates the things he said, and most importantly he hates the lump in his throat.

“baby,” he trails a hand from your sleeping face to your arms. he crawls under the small throw blanket you found in your closet. “i’m sorry,” he frowns deeply and finally lets his tears fall. he curls up against your back, soaking your shirt with his sorrowful tears. you awake to his sniffles and you whip around—worried almost. “i don’t wanna be mad at each other anymore.” that night he seemed to sleep better than any other.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who dances with you in the kitchen late at night to cheer you up after a bad grade or just a bad day. he loves the way you try to hide your giggles at his terrible attempt at tango.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who finds more enjoyment in laying in your bed with a bowl of popcorn and another one of your rom-coms than getting drunk and ending up in someone’s bed.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who gives you annoying nicknames whenever you’re mad at him.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who won’t give the time of day to any other girl.

“hey, i was wondering if i could get your number?” jake glances around before pointing to himself with a look of confusion, and when she nods, he holds up his phone with the picture of you. “i have a wife and a kid, thanks, but no thanks.” “dude, what kid?” heeseung shoves him while watching embarrassment fill the girl. “my dog!”

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t see anyone else but you. for you, his past doesn’t exist because you weren’t in the picture, he started living when you became someone in his life.

“i don’t think i’ll ever love someone the way i love you.” jake runs his hands through your hair while you both gaze at the stars. “i’m glad i ran into that day.”

you are all he’s ever known.

© aquadios | collection

playlist : let me love you by mario, intentions by starfall, moonstruck by 엔하이픈, safety net by ariana grande