#best laptop for business purpose

[princesscedar]

Reset my laptop and it works well for a week straight, now we're back to repeat bluescreens and like.........I have so many projects to finish and everything I troubleshoot ends up a dead end I'm losing my mind a little bit

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

[shockercoco]

Cheer Up

Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial

Word count - 1135

a/n - I watched Challengers a couple days ago, and it's safe to say I’m a mike faist supporter lol. Also I kind of just skimmed through this so ignore the errors. I hope you enjoy :)

You haven’t been having the best week, and losing a match today to an opponent who you clearly should’ve beat didn’t help at all. Your irritation didn’t go unnoticed by Art either, but he decided to leave you alone in hopes you would calm down.

Art could see the anger radiating off of you from his seat in the stands as you walked off the court after the game. You were pretty much silent for the ride back to the hotel and still once you got into the room. You took a shower in hopes that it would ease the tension in your body, and it did, but not enough. 

Sitting on the couch in front of the tv, you opened your laptop to watch the playback of today's game. This is something you did after every match to help you become a better player, but if you were to ask Art, he would just say that you were torturing yourself.

You were so into the video playing on your laptop that you didn’t notice Art entering the room until you felt him sit down next to you, resting an arm on top of the couch behind him.

“You’ve been sitting here watching yourself for hours, don’t you think it would be better to just close this and relax,” Art says as he dips his head down to try to get you to look at him, but you ignore him and keep your eyes on the screen.

“This is me relaxing,” you tell him.

“You know what I mean,” he says.

“Well this is what I want to do, so if you could leave me alone that would be great,” you turn to give Art a sarcastic smile before looking back at the laptop. He rolls his eyes at your attitude.

“How long are you going to be in this bitchy mood?” he asks, and you just shrug in response. Luckily for you, he knows just how to

You thought he would just leave you given the fact that you clearly don’t want to talk, but he stays in his spot next to you. Suddenly you feel Art grab the laptop from your lap and lean forward to place it on the coffee table in front of you, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him.

“Helping you relax,” he says as he turns his attention back to you and dips his head down to start placing kisses on the side of your neck and up to your ear. 

“Art-,” you begin, but you cut yourself off when you feel a moan rising in your throat. Once you feel like you’ve composed yourself you say, “I’m busy.”

“Then tell me to stop,” he whispers in your ear before attaching his lips back to your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

He places his hand on your thigh and trails it up until he reaches the fabric of your panties. Lucky for him you just like to sleep in underwear and a shirt. He begins to lightly rub you through your panties, not adding any pressure on purpose. Your eyes drift to your laptop on the table that’s still open and playing.

“This isn’t the time,” you say breathlessly as you naturally buck your hips.

He hums in response, waiting for you to tell him to stop, but it doesn’t come. He dips his hand into your panties and runs his finger up and down your slit through the arousal that has started to leak out of you, circling your entrance before moving up to your clit, and this time adding pressure.

“You’ve had this little attitude all week, and I think it’s time that it goes away,” he says in your ear, then leans back to get a look at your face as he pushes a finger into you. “What do you think?”

Your mouth falls slightly ajar as you let out a small moan, but no answer. The video may be playing, but the screen has turned into a blur.

“What, nothing to say? You sure did have something to say these past couple of days,” Art fake pouts with a tilt of his head. “If this is what you needed all along, why didn’t you just say something?”

He then inserts another finger and watches as you fall apart as he curls his fingers inside of you. You move one of your hands up to grip the armrest as your eyes close and your body leans back against the couch.

“I mean this is what you wanted, right? For me to fill you up and make all your worries just disappear?” he questions with a smirk. 

Art feels your walls clench around him at his words as he continues his measured pace with his fingers.

“An answer would be nice,” he states, his tone a little more firm. You shake your head no, but that isn’t enough for art. “No, say it out loud.”

“No,” you manage with a whine.

“No? Are you sure because the way you just gave in so easily tells me otherwise,” Art fake pouts. “It’s not like I have a problem with it, though. After all, I get to be inside you,” he smirks at you.

All you can do is moan as he increases the speed of his fingers. Your legs start to involuntarily close, but you hear him tell you no, so you listen and force them back open. You feel yourself coming closer and closer to your orgasm with each thrust of his fingers, and Art notices too by the way your whimpers and whines become more consistent. 

Right when you feel yourself about to tumble over the edge, Art quickly pulls his fingers out of you and out of your panties, causing you to gasp and your walls to clench around nothing. You finally open your eyes and look at Art, who still has the stupid smirk on his face.

“What are you doing?” you ask in confusion and irritation, and he just laughs at you.

“You were the one that said this wasn’t the time,” he tells you as he licks the fingers that were inside you only a moment ago.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” 

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he repeats with his eyebrows raised. Art begins to stand up, leaving you more tense than before. He motions to your laptop still playing the video from your tennis match and says, “I don’t want to bother you, so I’ll let you go back to what you were doing. Come find me when you’re done.”

You watch with an open mouth as Art walks out of the room with a smile and heads into the bedroom, not giving you a second look.

Part 2 out now!

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (ot8 mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Pt. 1

Next Pt. 2

!Warnings: angst, fake!texts, swearing (lmk if i missed anything)

Side-Note: I tried something new, I hope y'all like it :3

You and Chan had been dating for good 3 years now and just a few days ago it had been your anniversary and if anything, the past 3 years had been the best years of your life. You guys met when you were put in charge for one of Straykids's album and since then, the two of you grew really close. Of course Chan was a busy person, but he mad time for you whenever he could and never got mad at you for anything. Not even your clingy and sometimes overcaring personality, which had been a big problem in your previous relationships, bothered him. Or so you thought.

You were currently in the Kitchen of your apartment to make yourself breakfast. Chan stayed over last night to which you decieded, it would be for the best to sleep a little longer, and stay longer at work, even though you've still got to pack your things since you'll be moving soon.

You opened the fridge to get out some blueberries and other stuff, when you saw the Lunch made for Chan sitting in it, untouched.

You frowned and took your phone out, to notify him that you'll stop by at the studio to drop it off.

You let out a sigh and put your phone in your bag. I should just get over and drop it off, you thought to yourself and made your way down the hallway, between some boxes you've packed, while waiting for a reply the past hour. You stepped out the door, greeted by the shivering cold winter air and made your way to the studio, with your bag in one and chan's lunch in the other hand.

By the time you arrived at the building, you were freezing cold, mentally cursing yourself for not taking the car. You stepped inside the building, greeted by your co-workers. You gretted them back, making your way to the studio, knocking on the door once. No respond. You knocked twice. Again no respond. You decied to just let yourself in.

When you stepped in the room, you find a busy chan, howering over his Laptop, aggressivly clicking on his keyboard.

"Hey Babe, I texted you earlier but you didn't respond..you forgot your Lunch at my apartment, so I thought I'll bring it over" you said, and put the lunch next to him on his desk, with a smile on your face, which immediately dropped, when he just ignored you. You decided to shrug it off and came behind his chair, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"What are you working on?" No respond. "Chris do you hear what I say?" you ask and stare at him, but he just continues typing on his Lapotop. "Chris-" "Jesus fucking Christ Y/n, can't you just leave me alone?!" He bursted out and turned to you in his chair "But I-" you try to explain, just to be interrupted by him again "DON'T YOU GET THE HINT?!?" he yells, and you instantly stiff "Obviously I'm hearing what you say I'M NOT FUCKING DEAF OKAY?! I'm just ignoring you because I'm trying to have some alone time and do my fucking work without you constantly breathing down my neck!! Can't I just have like 5 minutes of alone time without your clingy ass being right here, next to me, like always asking me stupid questions and breakthing down my neck!?? And your overly caring personality is really getting too much, ever thought I left the Lunch there on purpose??? Or that I don't have time to constantly check my phone because I actually have work to do?????? Get you clingyness under control and LEAVE. ME. ALONE."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know if you should say something. You've never seen him like that. He sounded really mad, and you couldn't help but tremble and blinking your eyes so no tears could escape, but they did and didn't get unnoticed by Chan. "And here comes the river.." he sighed out and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You sobbed your cries in and turned around to leave, only mumbling out a weak "I'm sorry..." before rushing out of the room, running towards the exist, when you bump into Felix.

"Um Y/n is everything okay?" he asks, genuily worried but you just smile at him and nod, before hurrying to get home.

You just wanted to stay in bed for the rest of the day, but you couldn't even do that because you had to pack you things.

It's so cruel.

Everything is so cruel.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[like-a-diamondinthesky]

three times hyunjin wanted to kiss you plus the one time he finally did | h.h.j

pairing... bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader tags... best friends to lovers, "unrequited" love, fluff, 3+1 prompt

hyunjin really, really wants to kiss you. but he can't, because that's not what best friends do.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... was supposed to have class today but there was a really bad storm so i whipped this up during my newfound free time <3 this is longer than i planned it to be tbh

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ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° ONE

Hyunjin was bored to death. He had done nothing all day except use his phone, watch tv, use his phone, pretend to work on his laptop, and use his phone. Now, here he was, lounging on his couch, tapping away on his phone and looking for food to order.

He contemplated texting you, his best friend, but decided against it, thinking you were probably busy.

Right as he was about to pay for his food, Hyunjin's phone buzzed and a notification popped up. his eyes lit up, realizing it was a message from you.

y/n <3: hyun! y/n <3: are you busy?

Typing as if his life depended on it, Hyunjin quickly replied.

hyunjinnie: nah hyunjinnie: i was about to order dinner tho y/n <3: do you want mcdonald's? was thinking i could pick u up and we can get drive-thru

Ah, times like this, Hyunjin really just wanted to give you a big fat kiss. You were always spoiling him, after all.

hyunjinnie: YES PLEASE!!!! hyunjinnie: maybe we could watch a movie after too hyunjinnie: i mean, only if you want

He was nervous. He's invited you over many times before, but not since he realized that he was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with you.

y/n <3: definitely!!! sounds like a plan <3 i'll be there in 15

And just like that, Hyunjin's smiling like an idiot. Words can't explain how excited he was to see your face, to smell your perfume, and to hear your voice. And if his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, that was his business and his alone.

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° TWO

Fifteen minutes had never felt longer. Hyunjin was anxiously waiting for you to arrive, eyes darting between his phone and the clock on the wall. Were you purposely driving slow to make him crazy?

As if on cue, you knocked on his front door, making him jump up off the couch in excitement. He slid his phone into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and walked over to the entrance of his apartment.

When he opened the door, you were greeted with a huge smile and a big, warm hug.

"Hi! i missed you," Hyunjin said, though it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in your hair. You giggled at his affection and replied, "We just saw each other last week!"

"I know, I still missed you, though." Smiling sheepishly, he let go of you and closed the door to his apartment. He took your hand and pulled you towards the elevator. "Come on. I'm starving."

×

After a long wait at McDonald's, you finally paid and got your food. Pulling out of the drive-thru, you began your drive back to Hyunjin's house.

"No way, I've been scammed!" Hyunjin gasps dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead and slumping in his seat. "They only gave me five nuggets when i ordered six. I'm legally obligated to one more!!!"

"What? No way." you quickly peeked inside the box Hyunjin was holding, seeing that there were, in fact, only five nuggets. "Alright, we're going back there."

Surprised, Hyunjin sat up and stared at you. "Wait, huh? No, Y/n- I was just kidding. It's just one nugget difference. It isn't a big deal, let's just go home."

"Don't be crazy, Hyun. you paid for six nuggets, and you're getting those six nuggets." The look on your face was one of pure determination. Your brows were furrowed, your eyes focused on the road, and your lips—god, your lips—looked so pretty and soft. 'Perhaps,' Hyunjin thought, 'I should repay Y/n for all the trouble with a kiss.'

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° THREE

Hyunjin's heart was beating a mile a minute. The two of you had chosen to watch a horror movie after eating dinner, which was a bad idea considering you both hated them. But the reason for his pacing heartbeat wasn't the movie, no, it was you.

You were sitting next to him on the couch, huddled under the blanket. Your legs were touching his, your hands were clutching his arm, and your neck was resting on his shoulder. He wasn't even paying attention to the movie anymore, not when you were this close to him. Not even the jumpscares affected him. He was far too focused on how your grip around his arm would tighten, how you would try to scooch even closer to him, how you would hide your face in his neck.

After the movie ended, the two of you stayed in your position on the couch, too comfortable to move. Hyunjin had his arm around your shoulders, keeping you safe in his grasp. You were telling him about your past few days, eyes lighting up as you recalled your happy memories. The corners of your lips perked up when you talked, pulling your cheeks higher and bringing your eyes to a crinkle.

You looked so pretty in his arms, Hyunjin swears he could just lean in and kiss you right then and there. But he doesn't, because that's not what best friends do.

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° PLUS ONE

The stars were twinkling in the midnight sky. It was late and you were too scared to drive yourself home, claiming that the horror movie "changed your brain chemistry." So, like any good best friend would do, Hyunjin invited you to spend the night. In his bed.

"Are you sure, Hyun? I'm perfectly happy sleeping on the couch." You were standing by his bedroom door, watching him pull out your favorite hoodies of his. He walked to you with a soft smile, handing you the hoodie so you could change into something more comfortable than your old (and probably a size too small) t-shirt. "Oh come on, it's fine. I'm the one who asked you to stay over, anyway. It's only right that you take the bed and I take the couch."

Reluctantly accepting the hoodie from his hands, you sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll sleep on your bed. But! Only if you stay here with me."

A deep blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks at your request, but still, he gave in and nodded. "Sure, anything for you, Y/n."

×

It was a long, nearly sleepless night. Beside Hyunjin, you slept peacefully, lying on your side and facing him. He spent many hours staring up at his ceiling, silently cursing and thanking god at the same time for putting him in this situation.

Don't get him wrong, Hyunjin was so glad to have you with him in his bed, but he was so anxious that he'd make you uncomfortable. Were you okay sleeping while facing each other? Was he hogging too much of the blanket? Was he too close to you?

Eventually, these thoughts subsided and Hyunjin finally fell asleep. After a couple hours of rest, the sun started to seep through the curtains, filling the room with soft rays of light. Opening his eyes once again, Hyunjin was delighted to be greeted by your face in front of his.

You were so beautiful. Hyunjin admired the way your plump lips still curved into a small smile despite being asleep. Your hair was covering your eyes, so he slowly reached his hand to your forehead, gently brushing the stray pieces behind your ear. His hand hovered there as he thought to himself, 'I could just kiss them, right now. No one has to know.' Shaking the thought away, he brought his hand back down to his side, choosing to continue admiring your beauty instead.

"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to kiss me?" you whispered, eyes slowly opening. "I mean, if you won't do it, I will,"

Hyunjin's mouth dropped open. Did he hear you correctly?

You giggled at his reaction, bringing your hand to his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch. "Last chance, Hyun."

This is it, he was gonna do it. He was going to kiss you. Closing his eyes, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was everything. He could've sworn he felt fireworks explode in his chest. He placed his hand on the small of your back, bringing your bodies together. You moved the hand on his cheek to the hair at his nape, playing with the soft strands.

Pulling away, Hyunjin took a deep breath and opened his eyes. You both smiled at each other, happy in each other's arms. "Finally. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

"Took you long enough," you laughed. "I was so sure you'd kiss me after the movie. I was waiting all night."

Hyunjin chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. God, he could get used to this. "Had I known you wanted me to kiss you, I wouldn't have waited for a single second."

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comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Thigh Riding (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Matt, short, besties to lovers, clingy/needy Matt, subspace, whining, begging, just overall super submissive Matt, kind of anxiety subspace

Y/n’s pov

These last two weeks I have been super busy with work, and Matt who’s used to having my attention 90% of the day, is feeling neglected. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m letting him sit in my room with me during my meetings or playing with his hair while I’m on a phone call but that’s not enough. I’ve even started editing in Matt’s room so I could spend more time with him. Matt’s my best friend, he just so happens to be super clingy towards me, now that Chris has a girlfriend. He also suffers from severe anxiety so sometimes he falls into a subspace and gets super clingy like a toddler to their mother.

Marylou had told me that Matt’s been like that his whole life, his brain just scrambles. He needs to be told what to do and praised or else he gets really sad/anxious and starts to cry. Knowing this is why I try to spend as much time with him as possible when he’s in his subspace. Today was a bit different though, as Matt openly admitted to everyone this morning that he was feeling ‘submissive and horny’ without a warning. Chris and I laughed while Nick just sat there uncomfortably until they finished their breakfast and both brothers left for the day.

Matt was really needy today, constantly wanting my attention and following my every move. He said he was tired so I went up to his room with him to edit some pictures and thumbnails while he slept. That was short-lived though, as 5 minutes later, Matt was asking to sit on my lap. This was new, but nonetheless, I agreed, letting him sit on my lap while I worked until he got uncomfortable and shifted to one of my thighs. This position was a bit awkward considering he was only wearing boxers and a tshirt, I was wearing the same but I had shorts instead of boxers.

I moved my leg under him and Matt let out a loud gasp that I just ignored until he experimentally moved his hips forward. “Matt, what are you doing?” I questioned, he let out a whimper as he rolled his hips forward again. “C-Can you have sex with me?” he asked, I was shocked to say the least. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with Matt, because quite frankly I did. It’s that I’m busy and he’s not in the right headspace, I’m not going to take advantage of that now that he finally trusts me enough to be as vulnerable with me as he is to his mom and Chris.

I thought of a way to let him down gently so he wouldn’t cry, “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t. I’m really busy today, how about I leave for a little bit and you can jack off?” I said softly. I gauged his face for any signs of sadness but he was more so upset. He was still essentially grinding on my thigh in a way while whining because I said no. “Bu-But please?” he tried again, “Not today baby, I’m sorry” I said to him again, “Can I- Uh can I-“ he started.

“Can you what? You gotta use your words” “Can I ride your thigh? Please?” he begged, shoving his hand into his boxers and readjusting his cock. I figured there’s no harm in letting him use my thigh, as long as we’re both clothed, it should be fine. Sighing, I clicked save on my laptop and stood up, picking Matt up and putting him on his bed. He looked at me with wide eyes, “A-Am I in trouble?” he asked nervously, “No, I’d just rather sit on your bed, c’mon you can ride my thigh if you keep your clothes on” I explained.

He excitedly got back on my thigh, fixing his cock so the head was pressed right against my thigh, taking on a lot of his body weight as well so there was more pressure on it. He started moving his hips, whining at the new feeling he’d discovered. “Touch me?” he asked, I cupped his face and lightly stroked his jaw. “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t do that” I said softly causing Matt to loudly whine. “Just to help me move. Pleeeaase?” he dragged out.

I gave in, agreeing that I would hold onto his hips or waist to help him move faster. I could feel Matt’s dick rubbing on my thigh and not gonna lie, it turned me on. Matt had his hands on his thighs as he essentially humped my thigh, “Fuck! This feels so good! Wish you would touch me Y/n/n, so badly” he moaned out. “I know Matty, I’m sorry. You’re doing so well by yourself though” I praised him. He started to move faster, swiveling his hips a few times and moaning.

Matt must be really sensitive because he was already whimpering and acting like he was close. “Are you gonna cum Matt?” I asked seductively, “Y-Yes, s-so close, can I cum in my pants? Is that okay?” he inquired, breathlessly. “Go ahead baby” I said and Matt started moving faster. He moved his arms to my shoulders and hid his face in my neck, moaning at the pleasure. Matt’s hips sputtered and he moaned loudly in my ear as he came, a lot of his cum ended up leaking through his boxers and onto my thigh but I didn’t mind. I started rubbing Matt’s back while he came down from his high, panting in my ear and holding onto my shoulders tightly.

“Do you feel better now Matty?” I asked him softly, only getting a simple hum back before he pulled away from my neck. He looked so fucked out and I didn’t even do anything to him, Matt got off my thigh and instantly frowned, “I made a mess” he pouted. It really wasn’t even that bad, he just needed to change his boxers and I needed to wipe my leg off but to him, it seemed very important. “It’s okay, I can get us cleaned up baby” I smiled down at him, and to my surprise, Matt leaned down and started licking his own cum off my thigh, it was pretty hot.

“Wha-“ I started but Matt was already done, “Was I a good boy?” he asked with pleading eyes, “Yes Matty, you were very good” I praised, making him smile widely. He made his way off the bed and quickly changed his boxers as I walked back over to his desk, but he stopped me by hugging me from behind. I turned around to properly hug him and kiss the top of his head, “Thank you” he smiled happily “You’re welcome handsome” I smiled back. Matt pulled away from the hug and went over to his bed, “I’m going to take a nap now, can you still stay in here please?” he asked while getting under the covers. “Yes, I’ll stay. Goodnight Matty” I replied, “Goodnight” he mumbled back, already falling asleep while I went back to my editing.

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[kingkatsuki]

Everyone leaving a business course in Japan knows that Dynamight PR is THE job to get. Everyone strives and works for it without really knowing what they’re getting into. They just know it’s the highest paying job you can get and you’ll either never need to go job hunting again, or you’ll have an amazing job on your CV. That is until they work there and realise that Dynamight is a dog that cannot be contained by his PR team and the reason you get hired on the spot if you go looking for other jobs is ‘well if you can work for Dynamight, you can work for anyone’

I could write about this trope for hours I’m so obsessed with it— he’d make your job so insufferable whilst simultaneously being the best part of it😫

On paper, a job at Dynamight’s agency is the dream for anyone in business— never mind a student fresh out of school with no experience. Strict NDA’s meant there was little information about what a job working for Dynamight’s PR team was really like, but the fact that his current manager was signed off sick for stress should’ve been an indication of what the job would be like for you.

You didn’t meet Dynamight during your interview, even though it was held at his agency. A fact you found a little peculiar, thinking a Hero climbing the rankings would be invested in who he’d have as his PR assistant— especially as it could help further his career, but it didn’t surprise you. Dynamight was one of the most in-demand heroes, with the media, fans and public desperate for his attention. Of course he wouldn’t have the time to interview everyone that applied for the job.

But you didn’t even meet Dynamight when you got the job. The three weeks since had been surprisingly calm, surprisingly easy. You’d spend your days filtering through emails, most of them from fans who’d beg for a chance of meeting the Pro, or autographs or merch. Not unlike a lot of the emails from the media, trying to arrange interviews or publicity stunts while trying to offer their fees.

The only complaint you’d received was from a young photographer that hadn’t known any better when he shoved his camera directly under Bakugou’s nose during a rescue mission, the hulking Pro carrying an injured civilian over one of his broad shoulders as he grabbed the camera with his palm. The heat of his quirk no match for the intricate technology as it melted beneath his touch, effectively destroying the memory card as he let it drop to the ground. The only evidence a blurry, charred JPEG of Bakugou’s angry face as he reached out for the device. The complaint quickly settled with a new photography set as compensation, as well as a well scripted apology from the Pro. An apology, which you soon realised, was carefully scripted by yourself and signed by the Pro-Hero himself.

“What do you want?” You hadn’t expected these to be the first words your new boss would say to you, and yet here you were.

“Oh, I’m your new PR assistant,” You understood now why people felt intimidated in his presence. Crimson eyes shot you a glare from across the room before he quickly went back to the laptop on his desk, even though thick-rimmed glasses he still felt as intimidating as ever. Even if he did look much cuter like this— “I just need you to sign this apology to the photographer from last week—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ signing that shit,” He scoffed, “Tell that prick he’s lucky it wasn’t his head.”

Now you understood why there were always vacancies available for this job.

You were certain Dynamight wasn’t trying to make your job difficult on purpose, he always seemed to answer your calls when he was inside his office— even if it was usually with an abrupt “what?”. And he even agreed to tone down his aggressive views online, “Fine, sweetheart. I’ll cut the fuckin’ politics. But you know those fuckers need tellin’ how dumb they are”. The peace could only ever be short lived, because no matter how hard you tried, things just seemed to get worse.

If the hero commission weren’t a bunch of pussies Deku wouldn’t be number one for another year in a row.

“Oh my god,” Your eyes squinted as you read the tweet at six in the morning, before you’d even had a chance to wake up and get ready for the day.

The likes and retweets continued to grow as you began to get messages from your team at the agency, and the media as you contemplated just never coming back.

Usually someone in the IT department would lock his account just in time, or intercept the tweets but it wasn’t always quick enough. You really were in the trenches as you decided to take matters into your own hands. Scrolling to your contacts as you called your boss immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and calm the migraine you knew was coming on.

“You’re callin’ a bit late for a bootycall, sweetheart—” He grunted, his breathing laboured on the other side of the phone so you assumed he was at the gym. Or so you hoped, not wanting to imagine him on top of another woman whilst talking to you, “Don’t you start work in an hour?”

“Cut the crap, Bakugou,” You snapped, irritated by the offensive tweet mere hours after he’d promised to tone it down, “You said no more ridiculous tweets.”

“You said no more ridiculous tweets,” He mimicked your tone, “I’m just posting pure fuckin’ facts and you know it. If the commission weren’t so far up Deku’s ass I’d be number one by now.”

“No,” You growled, “If you weren’t such an insufferable asshole all the fucking time and actually tried to show up to some of the events that were organised for you, you might actually have a chance of changing public perception of you. Nevermind the simple fact that Deku had better numbers than you this month. Deku’s number one because he deserves to be, but you deserve it too. So maybe if you fixed up we could get you there, but instead you choose to be a jerk.”

You couldn’t believe the words had left your mouth. Every single ounce of annoyance and irritation you’d felt working under Dynamight for the past month had spewed out in under thirty seconds. The emotions you’d kept bottled up every time you received a new complaint or read a new interview or post from Bakugou, now released from your system.

And even though you were certain that you’d lost your job now, at least you could say that you’d given your notice in style.

“Well shit,” You heard the running stop on the other side of the phone as you assumed he paused his treadmill, panting into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You sighed, “Maybe it’s better if you get someone else for the job—”

“I like it when you’re pissed, sweetheart.” He cut you off completely, catching you off guard, “I’ll see you in an hour. You can tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"NIGHT TIME RELIGION"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 2.3k+ → a/n: just a simple, sweet glimpse into what our favorite idiots' nighttime routine is like. probably got a little too poetic with it, as always <3

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

“You fell asleep again.” 

It’s not a question, just a mere observation. Eddie doesn’t even put any emphasis on the key word there, that it had happened again, as he glances up on you sprawled out on his couch. 

“Nuh uh,” you childishly rebuke, ironically squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you let your cheek nuzzle deeper into the page of the textbook you’d been taking notes on, “I’m… I’m wide awake.” 

Every word painfully slurs with your next, voice mostly muffled. If he hadn’t been so close to you from where he was sitting on the floor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make out what you’d just murmured. 

It only makes him laugh softly as he focuses back on whatever piece of equipment he’d brought into the apartment that belongs to his bike, “Sure you are, sweetheart.” 

The coffee table is spread with hand towels and paper towels alike as Eddie fiddles with the hunk of metal. You hadn’t even prodded him about what it was he was fiddling with; you were too busy, knee deep in your studies as you’d made yourself comfortable in his living room. 

It was a normal routine now – something cozy, something domestic. Instead of being holed up in your dorm these days, you found yourself occupying apartment 2C far more frequently than you’d ever admit to anyone else. Half the time, the two of you didn’t even have plans. It wasn’t about elaborate date nights or purposeful hangouts anymore; these days, the two of you simply enjoyed one another’s presence. It was enough to just know he was there with you, in the same room, as the two of you were occupied with your own individual tasks. Sometimes, he would be reading a book as you wrote your essays. Sometimes, he’d steal your laptop to shop for new bike parts and accessories online as you caught up on your favorite TV shows. There had been plenty of phone calls with Nancy in which Eddie had let you simply rest your head in his lap, hands mindlessly carding through the scalp of your hair as he tried to offer assistance to his best friend’s daily troubles and rambles. 

It was nice, and it was normal, and it was something the rest of the world would have to pry from your cold, dead hands. 

The apartment could have easily become something akin to a prison after the bet, but it hadn’t. Instead, somehow and someway, you and Eddie had turned it into a proper sanctuary.

You no longer spent lectures daydreaming about returning to your dorm; your mind much preferred longing to return to Eddie’s room, to picture falling face down in his bed, where the pillow on the right side had begun to smell of your shampoo rather than his cologne. 

“It’s getting late,” he sighs when he hears you go silent again. He’s not annoyed by any means. If he had it his way, he’d probably curl up on the couch with you for the rest of the night, content to fall asleep to the view of your face smoothing out in peaceful rest. But he knows if he leaves you be, you’ll wake up with an aching back and an attitude that makes even Harrington cower. He puts down his project for the night, wiping his hands on a damp paper towel before he reaches blindly behind himself to give you a few taps on your rear, “C’mon, we need to get ready for bed.” 

You swat his hand away, and it only makes him grin, “It’s not that late. Plus, I’m comfy.” 

“It’s half past eleven, baby.” 

And oh, do you shoot straight up at that. 

Your eyes are finally wide open as you look at him wildly, face struck with confusion, “Excuse me?” 

“I said, it’s half past ele-”

“When the Hell did it get so late?” you fumble with yourself as he slowly gets up, making a show out of stretching all his limbs. You don’t even grow distracted when his arms reach well over his head and tug up his shirt, exposing that sliver of stomach that would normally entice you, “I swear to God, it wasn’t even ten like…. Ten minutes ago.” 

“Ten waking minutes ago, maybe,” he teases, holding a hand out for you, “Time flies when you’re napping instead of studying.” 

It’s hard for him to not smile so softly down at you right now, even as he watches the defeat take hold. Your entire outfit is compiled of his clothes, yet another t-shirt you’d snagged from him along with a pair of sweatpants that he can’t even remember the last time he’d worn them. Your hair is messy, falling out of the convenient style you’d fashioned in it hours before when you’d declared you needed to focus. Your shoulders sag, the corners of your mouth inch downward, and all he really cares about right now is getting you in bed so he can wrap himself up around you. 

Your eyes dart between his outstretched hand and your textbook, still open on a page that you’d embarrassingly drooled on, “I know we joked about celebrating when I aced my finals, but can we still get milkshakes when I absolutely flunk them?” 

The way you manage to melt his heart is impeccable. He doesn’t even have it in him to be snarky, or to make another menacing jokes, “Of course we can.”

That seems to make your decision. You finally reach out and take his hand, clearly trying to be dramatic as you pull on him with the entirety of your weight, almost as though your end goal was for him to actually end up beside you on the couch rather than to be standing beside him. 

If your goal is the former, you fail miserably. He doesn’t budge beneath your drag, only leaning forward to grab your other hand and properly haul you off the couch. 

“Oof,” you huff out as you collide with his chest from the force, letting your face smash into him and making no move to pull back, “Can’t you just carry me to bed? Is that an option?” 

He almost says yes. Almost. 

“We won’t even make it down the hall,” he chuckles, taking slow steps back, guiding you right along with him, “I may or may not have also dozed off at some point. Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“Is it?” 

You’re hardly lifting your feet, shuffling your way along, letting him walk you deceiving to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He has no idea if you’ll be capable of doing your full skincare routine, but at the very least, he has to get you to brush your teeth. If he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. 

“It is indeed,” he finally stops walking backwards, deciding it might become more dangerous rather than just dragging you along, “Probably won’t get a ruling until morning, so we might as well brush our teeth now, doll.” 

He’s trying to sweeten the deal. Coaxing you with adoring pet names to keep you in motion. 

“Ugh, effort,” you crunch your nose as you say it, and it’s clearly more for show than anything now. You’re fully conscious, capable of getting yourself to the bathroom sink where both your toothbrushes now sit side-by-side in a glass cup, but you don’t let go of his hand just yet. 

His palm is warm, and right now, all you really wanna do is curl up in that heat. 

Eventually, though, you let go. The two of you stand in the mirror as you go through the motions of wetting your toothbrushes, applying the toothpaste – all the boring, mundane actions that are more habit than conscious choices. But interspersed in the habits you’ve gathered over your years of life are new ones, minimal but vital after the amount of time spent together. Proof of the way this nighttime routine had become something of a religion between the two of you, something to be offered and to be shared rather than simply going through the motions. 

The way Eddie carefully rolls the end of the toothpaste tube before passing it to you, simply so it’s easier for you to get your share of it. The way you leave the water running after you’ve wet your own brush just so Eddie can also do so. All the sneaky glances caught in the mirror as the corners of your mouths foam up. Every ridiculous face, every nimble bump of your hip to his, the way he sticks out his very white tongue at you before he spits out into the basin – new things that have all become the normal, but still settle warmth in your chest.

Things that water a garden of vinery and blooms that no longer only belong within the confine of your bones, but his as well. 

A shared garden of memories and comfort. Growing, flourishing, nurturing one another. 

You lean down to spit right before him, and when you take a second too long, he tugs on a strand of your hair, trying to move you. And even as tired as you are, you find it within yourself to be a little shit as he so lovingly mumbles out around his toothbrush, lingering until he’s bumping you with his hip with purpose. 

Passing the floss back and forth (or more like you shoving the floss into his hands before he can try to argue against it), using the same paper cup to sip mouthwash out of – something so bland that you used to do it alone, now something to enjoy with him. 

You kind of love it. You kind of love him. 

“Should I wash my face?” you question, leaning in closer to the mirror and poking at your cheeks, checking your skin for any blemishes you can find. 

Eddie only moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and making the entire ordeal far more difficult as his chin rests on your shoulder, “Not if you don’t feel like it. Besides, it’s gonna make your nose cold, and then you’re gonna press it all over my damn neck and-” 

You cut him off with a joking glare, reaching up to flick at his nose, but he’s quick to pull his face out of your reach. Smiling widely, showing off those fresh and minty pearly whites. 

“If my cold nose bothers you that much, I could just stay on my side of the bed tonight,” you scowl, even though you were already taking his advice and calling it a night, twisting out of his hold to flick the lightswitch and exit the bathroom. 

He’s still stronger as he keeps his arms in place, only twisting himself around to face the door frame right with you, whining in your ear, “No.” 

He drags out the ‘o’, his voice slowly growing more quiet the longer he draws out the vowel. At some point, it’s less than Eddie has ended the protest, and more that he’s just run out of breath. 

His arms only leave your waist for the two of you to get dressed in proper pajamas. Well, what you both consider proper pajamas. 

You, left in only his shirt and underwear, and Eddie simply in his boxers. 

There’s no more sarcastic comments or lazy banter, although you certainly expect it. You’re almost holding your breath for it, right up until Eddie’s lifting his comforter and eagerly motioning for you to climb into bed first. Not one smartass remark about ladies first that could easily backfire on him as you shoved him into the bed before you. 

No, he waits until the two of you are lying on your sides, facing one another, not quite touching when his face breaks into a radiant smile. 

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, overly suspicious of his random burst of happiness. 

“You call it your side of the bed.” 

At first, you don’t get it, “What?” 

“You called it your side of the bed,” he repeats with the utmost emphasis, finally throwing his hand out in search of your own, pulling it up to eye-level so he can toy slowly with each of your knuckles. 

“Is it not?” you’re whispering like two children at a sleepover, your feet finally drifting to toe at his calves. If they’re too cold for his liking, you don’t know. He doesn’t flinch or complain, only spreads his legs ever so slightly so there’s a space left for you to fill as you intertwine limbs. 

“It is,” he confirms, nodding a little, finally slotting his fingers between your own, “Just nice to hear you say it out loud.” 

And suddenly, you get it.

It’s your side of the bed. It’s your toothbrush resting beside his. Your textbooks and laptops are still on his couch, you have a sticky note with a reminder for yourself to buy more milk  put up on the fridge, there’s now a space for your shoes at the front door right beside his daily boots – slowly but surely, you’ve whittled out spaces for yourself here, with him. 

Even when you’re not here in this apartment with him, your presence remains. Someone could walk in, and they still see traces of you. You exist here, constantly, right along with Eddie. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, finally scooching closer. He immediately shifts so that you can cuddle into his side, your head resting against his chest and your ear pressed to listen to his thrumming heartbeat. A perfectly carved out space for you even here, between this sheets, against his skin, “It’s nice to say out loud.” 

Not a routine, but a religion. Something to worship in the quiet hours between the sound of quiet snores and a noisy coffee maker you already have plans to replace as a Christmas gift to Eddie. An apartment turned altar, with offerings from both of you, to all that has and could become. 

You whisper your final prayer, just as you do every night, even when you think Eddie might already be fast asleep, “G’night, Eddie. I love you.” 

He’s not already asleep. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[sipsteainanxiety]

katsuki's schedule, over the last few weeks, had been packed.

he was out of the apartment before the sun could even poke its sleepy light past the horizon. you grew accustomed to waking up to cool sheets and parted curtains, the smell of tea wafting gently from the kitchen from when he'd made a cup to help him get ready for the day. and he, more often than not, returned just as you were about to slip into bed, fatigue heavy on his battle-worn muscles. there wouldn't be much conversation held, just chaste kisses as he'd quickly eat something and shower so he could finally collapse next to you, out cold before his head even hit his pillow.

you didn't think much of it at first. the life of a pro-hero was bound to be crammed with patrol after patrol, each precious minute dedicated to saving the lives of those who needed help. you did your best to simply support him where you could—there were times where it felt like it was all you could do, really, silly little you. but you knew he appreciated your attempts all the same.

it wasn't until you caught a glimpse of his schedule on his open laptop—that he'd fallen asleep in front of on the living room couch—that you realized just how busy he was.

his entire schedule—from monday to sunday—was packed with patrols, meetings, and more patrols. there was hardly any free space for him to have any sort of free time. if he wasn't on patrol, he was training. if he wasn't training, he was in a meeting. seeing it all lain out before you made you pause.

you didn't get to see what he did once he stepped foot out of your apartment—didn't get to go to his agency to keep an eye on him at all times of the day. so you weren't privy to what exactly he did. but this... seeing his days, his weeks, so filled to the brim... it wasn't healthy. it couldn't be. and it was just for this month in particular too.

you decided to confront him about it one evening as you both rested lazily in bed.

"baby," you whispered as you propped your head up on your hand, your elbow resting on your pillow, "why has your schedule been so crowded lately, hm?"

katsuki gave you a tired hum, his carmine eyes moving from where they'd been blinking heavily up at the ceiling to your gentle face. you took the moment to look at him—really look at him. the bags that lined the bottom of his eyes, the pallor to his skin. and his words, when he spoke, were slightly slurred—intertwining with his weariness. "s'just all part of th' job, y'know."

"i thought you were supposed to have more free time now," you told him with a frown, "the higher you ranked."

he only grunted and gave the smallest of shrugs with his shoulders. you pursed your lips, but didn't say anything else—just lifted a hand and ran it through his spiky hair. across his forehead, down the curve of his cheek. he hummed again—low, broken—and closed his eyes.

it was then that you realized he was doing it on purpose.

he was running from something—purposely filling his schedule with so many things so that he wouldn't have a moment to rest. to let his thoughts filter in. to let himself be alone. he exhausted himself down to the bone so he could collapse at night on your shared bed and dream a dreamless dream.

for all the nitpicking katsuki did at his own regimens—making sure he exercised, ate healthily, got enough calories every day—it seemed like he couldn't control certain things from his own mind. the things he went through—things you were not knowledgeable of, not really—caught up to him sometimes. caught him off guard. made him go through phases where he was just the slightest bit out of control.

you worried for him, of course you did. it just... it was something he needed to deal with on his own. something he didn't want you caught up in—all the shit he kept locked down in his head. he kept you at an arm's length—it was why he never told you just how much he was weighing himself down. he loved you too much to let you be swept away in the hurricane going on inside him.

but you'd be there for him—willing and waiting—ready to finally catch him once it all faded away.

[peterparkouryo]

dream palace. | p.p imagine

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️

prompt: Movie night with your boyfriend turns into something more.

warnings: fluff, making out, no smut because i suck at writing it (mentions of it)

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i am extremely sorry for not uploading anything last week, really busy with captivated habits two and rebound three. enjoy this lil fic i made this weekend

Every Friday was movie night. It was a traditional thing you and your boyfriend, Peter did, even before the two of you started dating.

Sometimes on a rare occasion, your two other friends would join you, but since MJ and Ned weren't a couple, it almost felt like they were third wheeling whenever the two of you would drift your focus away from the movie playing and onto each other.

You were almost glad that on most Friday nights, it was just you and Peter. It gave you the opportunity to focus less on the movie and more on each other, which in a logical sense, defeats the entire purpose of a "movie night".

Today, rather it be fortunate or unfortunate, wasn't one of those days, and the moment you opened the door of your apartment to Peter's grinning face, and laptop in hand (since you didn't own one and you enjoyed watching it on his rather than the TV in your room), you were ecstatic of his presence. 

He had such a giddy effect on you, it was no wonder with every alone time you two would get, you could never keep yours hands off him.

"So, what movie are we watching?" You questioned the boy, plopping down on your bed as he trailed behind you, the door coming to a close as he did.

"Return of the Jedi, although not my favourite, I figured it's best we get this one out the way." Peter tells you, setting his laptop at the bottom of your bed. You let out a groan of protest, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

You adored Peter's dorkiness, it was one of the many reasons you were dating him, but sometimes it smothered you whenever it was Star Wars related, and you both knew you couldn't really get into the franchise itself no matter if you pretended to or not.

"What?" He asks quite frantically, a small pout forming on his lips.

"This is the fourth Star Wars movie we seen during our movie nights." You pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but the last one didn't really count because we were fu-"

"Okay! But that's different, and that only happened 'cause I didn't want to watch another Star Wars movie." You cut Peter's words off rather quickly as he lets out a laugh.

"No, really?" His voice comes out sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

"Can we just please watching something else?" You pleaded, your first and maybe last attempt at the puppy dog eyes you were giving him.

Peter eyes you for a moment, fighting a debate in his head rather to give in or just see where the night takes him if he insists you have to watch Return of the Jedi, and god knows you and your charm will have him doing the exact opposite as last time.

"Fine." He gives in after another heartbeat of silence, holding back an eye roll at your squeal of happiness.

"What movie did you have in mind?" He grumbles out, opening his laptop to a streaming service.

You think on his words for a minute, not really having a movie that you wanted to watch specifically. In all honesty, anything but a Star Wars movie would do perfectly fine. You say the first movie that comes to your head.

"Clueless." 

"And you say Star Wars is bad." Peter groans and you send the boy a glare.

"Nothing is wrong with Clueless, it's a perfectly good movie with decent comedy." You argue and Peter says nothing as he goes to search for the movie anyhow.

"Yeah, for someone who enjoys cheesy rom coms about rich people." He states back, successfully finding the movie, clicking play.

Thirty or so minutes passes by, the two of you cuddled close together as the laptop settles on Peter's lap, and you don't miss the yawn he lets out as he tries his best to not seem bored of the movie.

You would almost feel bad, but the past few movie nights has been his pickings and rather the two of you would pay attention or not, it was your turn, rightfully.

You feel Peter's figure shift, his hand wrapped around your arm, cuddling you closer as he lets out a bored sigh. You give him a side eye, a very annoyed one before you decide to just ignore his bored state and focus on the movie.

Peter then gives your shoulder a light kiss, running his fingers up and down your arm slowly and it certainly didn't take a rocket scientist to know exactly what he was trying to do.

"Peter." You warned, shrugging his close figure away from you and he smiles at your protests.

"Sorry." The boy apologies sheepishly, and you know all too well that he really wasn't.

After the interaction, a few more minutes pass by and you focus on the movie, or at least you tried to.

"What do you think you're doing?" You feel Peter's hand retreat from underneath your shirt, his hand taking home to your arm where it should had respectfully been anyway.

"I'm not doing anything?" Peter tells you, his voice confused, pretending to be watching the movie.

You roll your eyes at his words, smiling at the thought of Peter being so miserably bored, he'd do anything to distract you from the movie as well.

"Didn't seem that way." You point out, giving him a glance, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

"I know better than to have sex with you during our movie nights." Peter informs and you can tell his words are a clear mocking of the exact thing you do whenever it was a movie of his you didn't want to watch.

You shoot him a glare.

"First of all, I don't do it every time it's a movie you pick, and second of all, Clueless is a lot more entertaining than people in space." You argue, folding your arms over your chest, like a child would.

"I never said you did and this movie is way more boring and has no action." Peter bites back and you chuckle at the adorable pout on his face.

"Would you rather do something else? Like maybe, braid each other's hair, or put on face masks?" You suggest jokingly.

Peter finds no humour in your joke, and continues his pouting, watching the laptop screen, but not actually paying any attention to it.

"Or we could just make out." You joked some more, chuckling to yourself, because even if Peter didn't find anything you were saying funny, you knew you were on some level the funniest person to be known.

"Okay." You hear him say, and you stop yourself from your laughter, raising a quizzical eyebrow, your gaze reaching Peter's eager one.

"I was joking." You point out, and the boy shrugs, unaffected at your words.

"Well I wasn't and if sleeping with you won't drag your attention away from this boring movie, maybe making out with me will." The boy shows you an ear to ear grin and you tilt your head in disbelief.

"How about we finish this movie, then we'll see?" You say slowly, and Peter doesn't give that option into consideration.

"Or, we can see now." Peter pushes the laptop off his lap, turning to you rather quickly, attacking your lips before you could say or do anything.

The first time you and Peter ever kissed was well, awkward. It being your first relationship and vice versa, you never knew exactly how a kiss should be and obviously, neither did Peter. 

Though yes, it was really awkward, given the fact the two of were in the middle of having ice cream, and it was a very sticky, messy kiss, it still was somehow perfect. Some might say it wasn't, but oddly enough, it just made sense.

And ever since your first kiss, Peter made it his life's mission to prove just how progressively good he was at "sucking your face" (as MJ likes to call it).

With the movie now long forgotten, you swiftly fall under the spell that is Peter and his lips, the boy pulling you onto his lap.

The kiss had a mutual understand of the ache burning in your bodies, but you knew better than to act on it. Only because Peter had this annoying habit of leaving very noticeable blemishing on your skin and it took a lot of hours of makeup and strategic thinking to hide them, not only from your friends, but parents too.

Peter's hands were (very) eager, to grip pretty much any part of your body, settling for clasping his ungodly hold on your waist, which was a prominent touch you felt even through your shirt.

Your hands rested on his shoulder, sliding their way to the back of his neck, playing with the soft curls as they did so.

A keen noise escapes Peter's lips and you smile, continuing with the kiss.

There were moments like this were you were content with Peter's captivating presence. It was hard to put in words, but anytime you were in a proximity of him, you felt safe. Not only that, but the boy gave you every reason in the world to trust him with your life.

Hopefully Peter trusted you just as much as you trust him. You surely didn't doubt it, with how he was practically moaning in your mouth at the moment.

You two eventually have to pull away to catch your breath, and you. catch glimpse of Peter's dazed state, biting your bottom lip to stop the grin forming on your face.

"What?" Peter wonders, his flustered gaze staring at your curiously.

"Nothing, just love looking at your post make out face." You admit, running a hand through his head full of curls.

Peter says nothing, closing his eyes as he lets out a sigh of content at your gesture you've done plenty times before.

If it were up to you, you'd stay like this forever. Watching your boyfriend enjoy your delicate touch, his breathing at an even pace, letting you know he was comfortable and genuinely happy in any moment spent with you.

"We should get back to the movie." You suggest, attempting to remove yourself from his lap but unfortunately the spider boy had a stronger advantage.

You raise an eyebrow at him and his pout of protest.

"I'd rather you stay here and keep me warm." He suggests, sliding his hands behind your back for a hug.

You smile at his words, giving him a hug back, melting into his touch.

"If you know what I mean." You hear him say, smirking in your neck.

Your eyes roll at his suggestive option, pushing him away from you.

"Gross." You groan, successfully removing yourself from his lap, reaching for his laptop and unpausing the movie.

"It's not like you haven't done that before." 

"Peter!"

"Right, sorry."

[joshsindigostreak]

Blue Christmas 💙🎄

Authors notes: Hi y’all!! This spawned from a dream I had the other morning and I couldn’t get it out of my head. My first official Rom-Com, and friends to lovers! Shout out to @gretasmokerising and @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine to hearing me out with this idea and yelling at me to write it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 6813

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, and SMUT at the end! MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap y’all’s willies), alcohol use, agonizing mutual pining? I think that’s it.

It had been 4 weeks, 2 days, and 7 hours since Josh Kiszka had last spoken to you. The most he had ignored you since the day you met over 2 years ago. His cubicle was stationed next to yours, and you could always look to your right to see him typing away at his computer, eyes trained at the screen and never once glancing over at you. He would arrive in the mornings silently, and clock out at 5 without a word. But it was the lunch hours that hurt the most. Ever since you had started this job, he was always your lunch buddy. He showed you where all the good vending machines were, and how to get down to the courtyard on the bottom floor where most of the office population ate their lunches. You hadn’t seen him down in that courtyard since…the incident…and you sat at your usual table most days hoping you’d see him come through the double doors, lunch in hand and a smile on his face. But in the weeks since, he had either eaten elsewhere or stayed in his cubicle working. A few times you tried to stay behind as well, hoping the silence from being the ones in your general vicinity on your floor would coax him into conversation, but it didn’t work. 

But what was this “incident”? What was the catalyst to make him so cold to you all of a sudden? As you twirled your mouse over your screen pretending to be busy, your thoughts drifted back to the day everything changed. 

Josh had a usual lunch table. It was in the courtyard, but in the back corner where he could have the best privacy. This back section used to be the smoking section before smoking was banned per company policy, but they left all of the plants and hedges in place that separated it from the rest of the courtyard. His lunch hour was sacred. It was the part of his day that he could be by himself and not have to talk to anyone if he didn’t want to. Not a lot of people sat back there, which was another blessing. But he didn’t mind sharing it with you. He jumped at the chance to show it to you on your first day. You made a comment about how it was very “Rainforest Cafe” that endeared you to him even more. Ever since, it has been the two of you back there, hidden amongst the hedges. 

That day wasn’t much different from any other, a run-of-the-mill Tuesday in the middle of November. For that time of the year, it was unusually warm, so you felt that it was imperative to take advantage of it and sit outside when you still could. You made your way down to your table, walking past various coworkers chattering away. You could smell the Caesar salad through the container in your hand and you couldn’t wait to dive into it. Finally you made it to your table in the back corner, with your lunch buddy sitting with his back to you as he typed away at his laptop. He was a true workaholic, but his efforts never went unnoticed. Your immediate boss, Ted, always gave shout outs to Josh in meetings, and you would be lying if you said the way Josh’s face would tinge pink every time didn’t melt your heart. He was absolutely terrible at taking compliments. He was deserving of all the praise, hell he deserved a promotion at this point with how much he led the team, but he would get so bashful whenever someone would tell him so.  Sometimes…you would compliment him on purpose just to see the color rise in his cheeks, and if you were lucky, a glimpse of the dimple on his left side.

You slid onto the bench that was bolted to the table, a fixture that hadn’t been updated since the nineties, you were sure. Normally you sat across from him, but today you just had the itch to be in his personal space. 

“Whatcha working on?” You asked as you popped open the container for your salad.

“I am working on…a PowerPoint…,” he quipped, giving you a playful sideways glance. 

You nodded, letting him type and fill up the current slide as you dumped your salad dressing into the container and mixed it with the greens and grilled chicken. After a few minutes of silence, you leaned over to him, brushing your shoulder against his, “you need a cool transition. No PowerPoint is complete without a cool transition.” 

At this he stopped typing and turned his face towards yours, seemingly unbothered with how close you were to him, “I can just see the look on Ted’s face when he hears the ‘whoosh’ between slides about projected first quarter profit margins.”

 

“That man needs a good laugh. Or to get laid. Maybe both,” you nudged his shoulder before going back to your lunch. 

“Don’t we all…,” Josh mumbled to himself. You almost asked him what he meant but he was quickly back at it, filling out bullet points and inserting graphs on the side. It wasn’t unusual to see him this engrossed in his work, but frankly, you were bored. This was the one hour you could truly hang out with him and not have to talk shop. Your friend needed to relax, and not let his work become his life. He always told you that the more he got done during the day meant the less he had to do when he got home, but you knew that was a lie. He always came in the next day with more work than when he left, and sometimes you wondered if that laptop bag of his was surgically attached to his shoulder. 

Your salad was long gone and Josh was still typing away, clicking back and forth from his data and his project. Knowing what would get his attention, you innocently poked at his side, and held back a laugh when he flinched and smiled. This spurred you on, and you poked his arm now, forcing him to make a typo. He was trying so hard to not give in, to not give you the satisfaction that he was amused, but he was failing. 

You upped your ante by reaching for his ear. Gently, you ran your fingertip down the shell of his ear, feeling every curve and contour before brushing the skin next to his earlobe. This caused Josh to visibly shudder, and he tried to cover it up by suddenly jerking his head to the side to pretend to bite your finger. You erupted in giggles before you were aware of how close his face was to your hand. Before you could stop yourself, you extended your fingers to lightly cup his jaw. Instead of backing away, he leaned into your touch, a move that neither of you were expecting. His fingers stilled on the keyboard, and slowly backed away and into his lap he turned his body to face yours. 

The logical side of you wanted to just laugh and lean back onto your end of the bench as if nothing happened, but the other side of you, the side that needed him, was telling that first side to shut the fuck up. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, you leaned closer to him, and you hitched a breath when you saw him do the same. There was no space between the two of you, your right thigh was firmly against his left, heat radiating through both of your respective slacks. 

Before either of you could think about it too much, Josh closed the gap between you and slotted his lips onto yours, lazily taking your bottom lip into his mouth. The action caused you to moan against him, and you seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The professional side of you was screeching in your head that you were literally at work and in a courtyard full of people, but the rest of you argued back that no one could see you given how tall the hedges were. 

One of Josh’s hands slid up to your face, mirroring what you were doing to him, and his other hand snaked around your waist, desperate to have you closer. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he opened up for you instantly. For several moments, you made out like teenagers on that bench. 

You weren’t close enough to him, and before you could protest he lifted you up and over his lap, allowing you to straddle him. He was thanking God that the greenery was so overgrown that you couldn’t be seen in the position you were in. 

As you settled down onto his lap, the rigid outline of his cock pressed up against you, and you instinctively grinded down on him. He bit your bottom lip to keep himself from moaning too loud, but it was futile as that only caused you to let out a breathy moan of your own.

He was kissing you like he was starving, and you couldn’t get over just how good he felt. You always stole glances at his lips, noting how perfect his cupid's bow was and they were the most enviable shade of pink. 

But just as you lowered yourself back down to grind on him even more, a very loud and obnoxious cackle was let out across the courtyard. Of course it was Vera’s obnoxious ass laughing at whatever the fuck. This caused Josh to break away from you, sobering him up to the situation. He was suddenly very aware of you straddling him, with bruised lips and tousled hair. He couldn’t…he couldn’t be here much longer or else he wouldn’t be able to stop. Without any preamble he guided you off his lap and slid out the other side of the bench and adjusted his belt buckle and smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t even glance at you when he shut his laptop and turned to leave, quickly mumbling about needing to run to the bank before his lunch hour was up. It was a clear lie, but he didn’t give you a chance to call him out on it before nearly running out of that courtyard, leaving you dazed and…very wet…on that bench. 

You leaned back in your office chair and rolled your eyes at the memory, not because you didn’t love it, or that it didn’t replay in your head every time you saw the man, but because you were afraid it completely fucked up your friendship with Josh. Before you on your screen was a reminder email about the company Christmas Party that was being held this weekend. You wanted to go, but the thought of mingling with coworkers while Josh continued to ignore you made you want to crawl under your desk and never come out. Because of his outstanding job performance, he was put on the planning committee and thus would have to be there. There was no avoiding him. 

With a resigned sigh you glanced over at his desk, hoping to see him, but finding it Josh-less. Instead you heard his voice chattering away at another desk, leaning against the entrance to a nearby cubicle. To everyone else, he was his normal talkative self, but for you, he was silent and cold. What the actual fuck was his problem? The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off. Just who does he think he is by kissing you like that, touching you like that, fulfilling the fantasies you’ve had in your head for months, only to throw you away essentially and leave you high but not very dry? Fuck him, but not in the literal sense. He didn’t deserve that. A plan was forming in your head. You were going to show up to that party pushing every button you knew how to push with him. After working for him for nearly two years, you knew what made that man tick. You had picked up on several preferences of his via passing comments, jokes, or flat out remarks. 

And you were going to exploit every single one of them. 

When the day of the party arrived, you looked over at your outfit laid out on your bed. A beautiful long sleeved navy blue velvet dress. Why blue? Well that color had become an inside joke between the two of you, stemming from an exchange on your very first day in the office. 

You were settling into your new cubicle, arranging your things and figuring out just where you wanted everything to go. The size of your desk surprised you, as you were expecting a smaller space given you were a new hire, but the expanse of the desk gave you so much more room to work with. It was a blessing as you tended to spread out your paperwork around you throughout your day, a habit that your old boss noted every time she walked by your desk. 

As you reached into your box full of things you brought from home, your hand settled on the third Funko Pop you had picked out of your collection. Your Funko of Daphne from Scooby Doo had been one of the first you had bought when you started your collection, and she meant a lot to you. 

“You take them out of the box?” An unfamiliar yet pleasant voice interrupted your thoughts and you nearly dropped the box you were holding from being startled. 

Snapping your head up at the source, you were greeted by a rather…gorgeous man with curious big brown eyes. You had briefly seen him when your new boss was giving you a tour of the area you would be working in, and he had been getting something out of the supply closet. 

“Sorry?”

“Your Funkos…you take them out of the box?” 

Realizing what he was referring to, you chuckled slightly in embarrassment, “oh don’t start, my brother already gives me enough shit about ‘ruining their value’ whenever he comes over and sees my collection. They just look so sad sitting in them. They need to be free!”

This caused the stranger to smile as he extended his hand for you to shake, “I’m Josh, your new neighbor across the way.” He dramatically threw a glance over his shoulder at his own cubicle across from yours. You gladly shook his hand and told him your own name, which he repeated softly. 

You continued to pull more items out of your box as he stood there, not minding you had company. In the panic to get what you needed for your new job, you had inadvertently brought mostly blue office supplies. Blue post-its, blue binders, blue pens; it was as if your brain found one color it liked in the store and made you match everything to calm your nerves. 

“Your sweater matches your binders…,” Josh observed. 

This was your second time you looked up at him in embarrassment, “Oh! Yeah…purely unintentional. It’s my nicest one and I wanted to make a good-”

“It looks nice on you, that shade of blue,” he interrupted. 

Before you could stop yourself, you started rattling off a quote from one of your favorite films, “Oh this sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis, it's-"

"...actually cerulean?" 

The smile that spread across your face could light up the entire room, it wasn’t a niche reference, but you were so glad he picked up on it and you didn’t embarrass yourself a third time. After that, your friendship with Josh quickly blossomed, and the ‘blue’ joke got to a point where Josh was calling you Blue to your face, a nickname that stuck no matter how many times you told him to stop. 

Six months into your stay at your current job, you walked into work thinking nothing of the date, but when you got to your desk you saw a familiar small white box with a blue bow taped to the top. You dropped your bag onto your desk and picked it up. Turning it over in your hands you saw that it was a Miranda Priestly Funko, and while you instantly understood who gave it to you, you were confused at the occasion. 

“Happy Six Months, Blue,” Josh said warmly behind you, startling you. 

“Six months?”

“Since you started here! I saw it online and you’ve worked really hard these last six months so I just thought…you needed a token of appreciation.” He leaned towards you and whispered, “since you and I both know corporate doesn’t keep up with such things.” 

You smiled up at him, warmed by the gesture, “thanks Josh…” 

After a few seconds of awkwardly standing there, Josh piped up, “go on…free her from her plastic prison. She’s running out of air and it's getting dark! I’m frightened for her.” Giggles escaped your mouth as you ripped open the box and freed your new Funko. She was put next to your Daphne, as they both held strong sentimental value now. 

You shook your head from the memories, needing to focus on the task at hand. Slipping on the dress and securing your heels, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror before you left for the party. Your hair was perfect, your eyelids dusted with a champagne-colored shimmer, and your lips were adorned with a neutral matte red. There was no way he could ignore you with the way you looked. 

Or so you thought. 

After nearly an hour of mingling, your “friend” had yet to even walk passed you. In fact it was pretty obvious he was avoiding you. He was only on the stupid decorating committee but you’d think he was the host of the entire party with the way he was flitting about the employees, giving them warm greetings and thanking them for coming. You didn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy, but you kept deliberately putting yourself in his line of vision and he acted like you weren’t there. What the fuck? 

At this point, you were standing with a bunch of your coworkers on your floor, trying to not make it obvious you were glaring at Josh while slowly sipping your cocktail. By the grace of God, one of the men from your floor walked over with Josh in tow, firmly planting him in the little group that had gathered. He still avoided your gaze, keeping his eyes on Brad who clapped him on the shoulder and praised him for a project he had recently finished and was going to present next week. 

Your friend Stacy waved her hand at them, “oh come on no work talk tonight, we get enough of that during the day.” 

“I know, I know but Josh ran his ideas by me the other week and was telling me how it all came together at the end, I’m happy for him,” Brad defended. 

What? Josh never ran ideas with anyone else but you. You were always his first choice whenever he had something cooking in his head. Hell, you didn’t even know he had a big project lined up. But there he was, cheeks flushing at the praise. Under any other circumstances, your heart would stutter at the sight, adoring how bashful he could be, but right now? Right now it pissed you off, and you were on your second cocktail of the night. Your filter was nonexistent. 

“You told Brad about your new project?” You blurted out, slightly slurring your speech. 

At last, Josh finally addressed you, “yes? I wanted to run some numbers by him just to double che-”

“But you always run your ideas by me?” Unfortunately, the alcohol also made it impossible for you to hide the hurt in your voice. “You always ask to pick my brain on things.”

You took a step forward, “yes you do, and I always run my ideas by you in return. They always note how well we work together in meetings.” The rest of your coworkers stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do as you verbally sparred. You didn’t care, you stared at Josh barely blinking. His jaw was clenched, lips set in a line. But you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth, “you don’t even like Brad! You told me his projections were always off and he talks too much during meetings which is rich coming from-”

At this, Josh handed his drink off to the closest person and quickly grabbed your hand to pull you away from the group. He guided you through the crowd, and you dropped off your empty glass on a random table, not caring where it was. The only thing you could focus on was the warmth from his hand, and how he effortlessly laced your fingers together as he walked. This was the first time he had even touched you since that lunchtime makeout session. 

He swung the outside door open, leading you out onto the side deck of the venue. No one else was out here due to the cold, and the cold wind sobered you up a little. You stood next to the deck rail, glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Josh?!” 

“What the fuck Josh? How about what the fuck, Blue?!” He’s giving you the hardest look he’s ever given you, his eyes a darker shade of brown you weren’t used to seeing, and no cheek dimple in sight. He continued, “I am preventing you from getting fired for running your mouth in front of everyone.” 

You sneer, “since when do you care what my mouth does?” 

He clenches his jaw again, and he swallows hard enough to see his Adam's apple bob beneath the gorgeous white turtleneck he was wearing. “You know what, I think you need to just stay out here for the rest of the night, and lay off the eggnog.” 

He started to walk off but you grabbed his arm before he could leave, “no, you don’t get to do this again. You have ignored me for nearly a month now.” You lowered your voice even though it was only the two of you outside, “we never even talked…about it…was I that bad?”

He spins to face you, and backs you up against the deck rail, placing both hands on either side of you, bracketing yourself between his arms. He stares at you for a few more seconds, before declaring in a gruff voice, “you were absolutely incredible, and that's the problem.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he continued, “I have done nothing but think of you since that day, hell I thought about you every single day before that. Ever since you walked into that office, in that fucking blue sweater, your perfectly coordinated desk supplies, your intelligence, the way you always have a comeback for everything…Blue, I could not get you out of my head even if I tried. But that day? When I finally got to taste you? Have you in my arms? It ruined me. Ruined me for everyone else. The mere thought of even talking to you afterwards sent all my blood south and I can’t walk around the office with a fucking boner, can I?”  You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off again, “and you show up here tonight, looking like this, knowing how much I love you in blue…you wicked little thing.” 

Just then, the door to the outside was swung open by someone that worked on a different floor, and you guessed they got the hint because they quickly went back inside. But as the door closed behind them, the two of you could hear Blue Christmas by Elvis being played loudly through the speakers inside. How appropriate. 

All of your worst case scenarios that had haunted your mind the last few weeks weren’t even true at all. Josh’s words had your heart hammering in your chest, and having him this close to you after a month-long cut off had you aching. His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the rich chocolate of his irises that matched his brown suit were smoldering before you. Reaching up, you gently cupped his jaw the same way you did weeks ago on that bench, and just like before he leaned into your hand his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Blue…,” he whispered against your palm. 

“I missed you so fucking much. I don’t think you understand how empty I felt without you talking to me every day. Not hearing your daily complaints, not making me laugh, no eye contact during meetings when they got boring? I sat downstairs every single day, at our usual table, hoping to see you, but you never showed. I felt like I did something horribly wrong and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me otherwise,” he shook his head against your hand,  “You just shut me out with no explanation.”

“No..no I’m sorry for that…it was stupid, and cruel of me. I just didn’t know what to do. Every time I tried to talk myself into talking to you, it resulted in me thinking of scenarios that would’ve had us end up with multiple HR violations, and I just couldn’t do it.” He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Well, Kiszka, what are you going to do about it now?”

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he finally opened his eyes to look over your shoulder at the sprawling grounds of the country club. 

“What if I told you, that when we were looking for venues, I noticed that this particular one has an entire property just for a garden, that's currently out of season, and that there’s a greenhouse off to the side that they keep some of the plants indoors over the winter?” 

You were tempted to look over your shoulder to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t want your eyes to leave his face.

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I’m saying that I need to finish what I started four weeks ago.” 

Before you could respond he took your hand and led you down the steps of the deck and out onto the frost-covered lawn. The entrance to the garden wasn’t very far, but it was nestled in a brick fence. Once inside and out of sight, you got a glimpse at your surroundings. The garden was definitely winterized and dormant, but the hedges were evergreen and tall, successfully blocking anyone who might peer over to that side of the property from the main building. His fingers were still laced with yours as he took a sharp left and down a narrow path. As you traveled deeper into the garden, the party noise slowly fizzled out, and by the time you got to the greenhouse in question, you could barely hear anything other than the wind rustling branches. 

“It’s probably locked…,” you suggested, trying not to sound disappointed.

Josh briefly panicked, not quite thinking about that when he came up with this plan, but he quickly reached up to feel the top of the door frame. When his fingertips landed on cold metal, he nearly said a prayer out loud in gratitude. He held the key up to you, before spinning back around and trying it in the lock. As fate would have it, the lock clicked and the handle turned easily, granting you access. 

Inside, there were a few space heaters already running to keep the chilly night air outside. The temperature difference as you stepped inside was stark, and you shut the door behind you to keep any more winter air from coming in. One of the tables in the middle of the room had been cleaned off recently, with no pots or excess dirt littering the surface. When he was satisfied in his choice for this tryst, he turned around to face you again and backed you up into the door, colliding his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands flexed and kneaded your hips through the velvet fabric of your dress; his fingertips slowly bunching the material higher and higher until they met the skin underneath. He ran his hands along your skin, stopping abruptly when he felt the lacy material of your thong. He mapped out the lace blindly, tracing the woven pattern while pulling away from your lips to pant harshly against your face. 

“You were really walking around that party wearing these?”

“...you should see my bra…”

The only light in the greenhouse was from the waxing gibbous moon in the sky, streaming its moonbeams through the glass windows. But even with the limited light, you could see Josh’s eyes darken even more at your words. He couldn’t take it anymore, and reached down to firmly grip the back of your thighs and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and he backed up and carefully set you back down on the cleared off table. His lips moved to your neck now, sucking bruises onto your skin, not giving a shit about the marks he left behind. You were his, goddamnit. Now that you were on the surface of the table, he reached back under your dress to tug your thong down your legs. He backed up just enough to slip it off your ankles and past your heels, but he didn’t let it fall to the floor, he looped it around his fingers to hold in front of his face to get a better look at it in the moonlight. It was fucking…blue. You wore dark blue lingerie tonight? Your mission to torture him was succeeding, and another growl grumbled in his chest. Your words from earlier echoed in his head, and after shoving your thong in his pocket, he quickly started tugging your dress off of you. Lifting your dress over your head, his eyes raked down your body. The height of the table gave him a perfect, eye level view of your breasts. The lace that perfectly cupped your flesh matched the thong in his pocket, and he had to lean against his hands on the edge of the table to compose himself. The wood dug into his skin a thought occurred to him, and he immediately ripped his jacket off and swung it around, laying it down behind you, so you wouldn’t have to feel the cold table against your skin. He looked up at you, silently asking permission and when you nodded his hands landed on your breasts, squeezing them through the lace. 

Josh stood before you, wearing absolutely too much in his white turtleneck and slacks. It was incredibly unfair, and you needed to fix that. In your tangle of limbs you clawed at the back of his shirt to pull it off of him. He got the hint and flung it over his head, letting it land on top of your dress beside you. Now it was your turn to gawk at him. This was the most you had ever seen of Josh at this point, and the sight of his perfectly unmarred skin in the moonlight had you drooling. Your hands itched to squeeze his shoulders and dig your nails into his skin. In a flurry, your bra quickly came off, nipples hardening in the chilly air. His mouth immediately closed around one of them, causing you to throw your head back and a reedy sigh escaped your lips. 

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, you needed more. You needed him. Now. 

“Josh…please…,” you whined. 

He nodded and moaned against your chest, before popping off and returning to your mouth. As his lips devoured yours he reached down to undo his belt and slacks, the metal clanking against the side of the table. He pushed his pants down to his knees and brought one hand to his cock, squeezing it and giving himself a few pumps. You pulled away from his mouth just enough to look down at it, and a shiver of anticipation ran through you. Reaching down, you pushed his hand away and wrapped your fingers around him. 

“Fuck, baby…” rattled out of his mouth. Spurred on, you started to pump him yourself, let your thumb catch the drop of precum resting at the tip, smearing it around the head. His hand shook as he closed it around yours, stopping your movements. “Keep doing that and this will be over embarrassingly fast.” You giggled and moved your arms to rest on his shoulders, giving him a minute to compose himself. 

Finally, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He took his cock in his hand once again, dragging it up and down through your slit. You were so fucking wet. He looked at you again, silently asking-

“Josh you don’t do something I’m going to be the one leaving this time and never forgiving you.” 

With that he surged forward, filling you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan into each other's mouths. Your hearts hammering in your chests. He didn’t waste no time before he reared back and filled you again, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he bottomed out. As much as he wanted to, there wasn’t time to take this slow, and frankly after the last month there was too much tension built up between you to even fathom another pace. He leaned you back down onto his jacket, the satin lining felt cool and soft against your skin, and he hovered over you as best he could given the height of the table. 

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, locking your ankles right above his ass. As you promised yourself earlier, your nails dug into the soft flesh of his shoulders, and he hissed in your ear in response. Slowly you dragged your fingertips down his back as he pumped into you, the angle making his pelvis grind against your clit exactly the way you needed it. 

It was becoming apparent that the table wasn’t built for strenuous activities, and it started to creek and shift underneath you. Josh didn’t pay it any mind, he was too focused on peppering kisses all along your face and neck, not wanting to leave your skin for a second. He couldn’t get enough of you, and the fact that he was finally having you, was sinking in. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that first time he saw you while you took your tour around the office while he was at the supply closet? It had to be as close as one could get. He nearly dropped an entire stack of printer paper when you walked by and your perfume invaded his senses, causing him to look up to see where it was coming from. The sheer luck that you got assigned to the cubicle next to his, and how he pretended to be busy while you started sorting your things. He observed you for several minutes before making his presence known, in the least creepy way possible. You were just…adorable…in how you were organizing your desk, and how you muttered to yourself as you picked things out of the box.

 The crush he developed that day was strong from the beginning, and now? Now he had you completely. His skin was slapping against yours. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. Your thighs were squeezing his hips as he hiked one of them higher on his side, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect…god, Blue…fuck…,” he rambled against your mouth, unable to hold back his words. 

You whimpered up at him, “you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Who's making you feel this good?” He lifted his head just enough to look you in the eyes. 

“...you…”

Not satisfied with your answer, he reared back and slammed back into you, harder than before, “no, who is making you feel this good?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him this easily. Instead you just stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, smiling up at him. 

You wanted to be a brat, he thought, two could play at that game. He instantly pulled out of you, fighting every instinct in his body to stay inside. You whimpered at the sudden loss, your brows furrowing. 

“I’m going to ask you again…” 

For a split second you hated him. You had been so fucking close, and he literally ripped it away from you. Too desperate to keep playing you nearly shouted, “JOSH, you, Josh…you’re making me feel this good…” 

A smirk appeared on his face before he slammed back into you, “mmm…good girl.” 

This side of Josh was surprising you, but you loved it. You had never really taken him for a dominating type, but you couldn’t wait to see more of it in the future. But before you could think about that, your high came hurtling back to you. He reached between you, going straight for your clit and started swirling his fingers around it. You were so wet that his fingertips glided easily in figure-8 motions against the hard nub, causing you to writhe beneath him. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher. The combination of his fingers and the ridges of his cock dragging against your walls was too much, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a shout, you shook underneath him as you came. He continued to pump into you, chasing his own high and prolonging yours with his nimble fingers. You were squeezing him so hard as you rode out your high, and he only had about three thrusts left in him before he emptied himself inside you. His vision nearly went white as he came, and your actual first name shuddered from his mouth. 

Neither of you moved for several moments, but the feeling of his release slowly leaking out and around his cock was undeniable. You started to panic at how you were going to clean up, until Josh reached next to your shoulder where the inside pocket of his jacket was. Silently he fished out a white handkerchief. You caught a glimpse of the initials, JMK, stitched in gold thread in the corner before it disappeared between you two and he pulled out, making quick work to clean you up. When he was satisfied, he stood up fully to pull his slacks back up around his waist, and reached over for your bra, handing it back to you. You slowly sat up, your muscles still feeling like jelly. The two of you were quiet as you redressed yourselves, and you remembered he had your thong in his pocket. 

Holding your hand out, you asked, “can I have them back now?” 

Josh smirked again as he put his jacket back on, “no…I’m keeping those.” 

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, “Josh!” 

He took your hand and started to lead you to the door, “you can have them back when we get to my place…” 

Stopping dead in your tracks you say, “a little presumptuous don’t you think?” Josh’s eyes widened and he realized how that sounded, and he opened his mouth to apologize before you continued, “who said we were going to your place instead of mine?” You laughed at how his shoulders visibly relaxed at your words, and caught up with him at the door. 

“You really are a wicked little thing…,” he mumbled as you ventured back out into the cold. 

As you made it to Josh’s car, you thought you had done a good job at not being seen by anyone, but unbeknownst to the two of you, Stacy and Brad were standing on that same deck from earlier. They watched your very freshly-fucked selves climb into the Jeep before taking off.

A week or so later, on Christmas Eve-Eve, you were greeted to a present sitting on your desk. It was a decent sized box covered in blue wrapping paper, matching blue bow on top. 

“Merry Christmas, Blue,” your boyfriends voice sounded behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him, dropping your bag on your chair. “Go on…it’ll fit on your desk.” 

Skeptically you turned and ripped the wrapping paper off the box, the first thing you saw was the red LEGO square in the corner. Confused, you peeled off the rest of the paper to reveal your present. It was the greenhouse LEGO set. 

“You little shit.” 

FIN

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @stardustvanfleet ,

[pedriscroquettes]

The thought I can NEVER get out of my head for academic rivals is when both of them end up putting their brilliant minds together to solve one thing can we get that w academic rivals gavi plsplspls 😭

here you go anon bae <3

warnings. business class mentions & suggestive content 18+

a/n. literally went through the depths of pinterest to find pictures of gavi in this specific suit. spain needs to bring these suits back idk.

lightly tapping your pen against your lips you kept analyzing the last question on your presentation. while gavi flipped through his many notes trying to find any piece of information that could back up his claim. the two of you had never been paired up for a project before so the newfound territory was not helping either of you. in retrospect the question was quite simple all the two of you had to do was pick the best business offer of the three given to you.

“it’s the third option-” gavi starts

“what? no it’s not.” you scoff. “if our business chose that offer we’d lose more than twenty percent of our ownership.”

“okay, yeah but they’re giving us over a half a million euros plus additional funding for marketing purposes. it’s a really good deal if you think about it.” he stands up from your desk making his way towards your bed.

“not when our company has already made over five million in sales in just one year. we’re fine in the marketing department. yes, we need the money but we also shouldn’t be giving up such a high stake of our company. it’s too risky.” you try to reason as he stares up at you. the red tie from your school uniform making his brown eyes pop out.

“okay fine. which option do you find more appealing then?” he grabs his pen pointing it at you. “and it better not be the first option.”

“well obviously not. it’s clearly the second option. we’re only giving up ten percent of the company and they’re giving us over three-hundred thousand euros which is more than what we need to expand our warehouses. not to mention they’ve also helped thousands of other local companies become big names around the country. it’s the smart choice.” you type down your reasoning as you explain it.

“you know…” he leans over you carefully removing your laptop from your lap. “you get ten times more attractive when you do that.”

“do what?” you look up at him and notice his smirk.

“when you take your work all seriously like that. our company isn’t even real.” he teases you. “it’s so hot.”

you barely have time to react before his lips on yours your hands making their way towards his hair like second nature. his hands trails from your cheeks to your neck before making their way to your ass. you gasp into the kiss as he gropes your ass, the brunette using it as the perfect opportunity to leave a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck.

“well one of us has to- fuck...” you can barely speak as he places kisses on your neck. “to be the smarter one out of the two.”

“oh, so now you’re the smarter one? i recall you calling me asking me for help-” he tries to tease you.

“you know now that i remember you left your stinky uniform here the other day. maybe you should go take care of that.” you push him off you. “i don’t want my room smelling like sweaty athlete.”

you walk him towards the laundry room dropping off some of your clothes as well. he watched intently as you place his clothes in the washer and carefully pour in some detergent. the act feeling too domestic. he wondered how you could possibly take care of him while you still had your own problems going on. you were too good for him.

“have you ever done it on top of the dryer?” he sneaks up on you.

“you’re disgusting pablo.” you shove him away.

“oh, come on.” he grins.

[saintzweig]

nsfw patrick zweig x reader

– no actual smut, reader is art's younger sister, stanford patrick. brother's best friend trope idk

– i'm supposed to be working on an article for school but i've been thinking about this all day sooo

patrick usually spends his summer break in the donaldson house, saying he'd rather smash a racket on his head than spend three months in his parents' pretentious, suffocating mansion. it's been that way since they were 12, and now they had just finished their junior year at stanford.

you've had a crush on him since the first time art brought him home, it was only supposed to be a small, happy crush to get you through summer but as years go by, you'd be more and more excited to see him. he was nice to you, outspoken and funny. sometimes he'd playfully flirt with you which makes you want to believe that there's a chance, but your brother says he's like that with everyone. there's no way he'd go for a younger girl, let alone his best friend's sister.

it was different this time, though. you were excited as usual but in a different way. you had just turned 18 a few months ago, and just graduated highschool. it had been a whole year since you've seen him and you wanted to take this chance to show him that you're a woman now. not just his best friend's little sister.

that's exactly the thought that ran through his mind when he arrived at your house, you were in a bikini top and denim shorts, undoubtedly spending the noon by the pool (on purpose of course, you knew he was coming.) you were nicely tanned, and toned as you had been going to the gym. he had to stop himself from making a comment out loud but you knew it affected him in some way, you saw how his eyes scanned you. you felt proud.

but the next few weeks proved to be a little harder. despite all efforts, he wouldn't budge. you would go out of your way to 'casually' touch him, you would make small talk and look up to him through your eyelashes. sure you'd get small reactions like catching him off guard that he'd stutter or choke on his drink, or softly touch him in places that would get him stiff. but he always kept his hands to himself, it was starting to make you frustrated.

of course this doesn't mean he hasn't thought about doing something. it took him a lot of effort to cool himself down and act normal around you, a beautiful young girl that wants him bad, but he knew better than to go against his best friend's wishes or make your parents mad. after all, they were letting him stay there for free.

after a month and a half of nothing, you decided it wasn't going to happen. but you didn't want to let all your hard work go to waste so to make yourself feel better, you secretly bought a pair of lingerie and took some photos on your macbook. its not like you were going to show them to anyone, you just wanted to feel good about yourself.

it was the next day, your parents were at work so it was only the three of you at home. you were in the kitchen getting something to drink while the two were doing god knows what. you stood there in your loose tee and some boxer shorts minding your own business when patrick came down looking for you, wearing only his boxers.

"i need to look something up and art said i can borrow your laptop" you absentmindedly nodded, distracted by his appearance. you told him it was on your bed as you sipped your water. it took you a few minutes to register what he was asking for and by the time you went to stop him, he had already gone up the stairs. you nearly drop your glass on the sink, running to go after him.

no no no no. you had forgotten you took photos of yourself, intimate– let's be honest here, pornographic photos, just the night before and you didn't close the photobooth app or hid them in folders. it's not like you knew this was going to happen.

by the time you had gotten to your room, he was already on your bed with your laptop on his lap. his eyes wide as he took in what was on the screen, it was growing uncomfortably hot in your room and tight in his boxers.

"patrick" your voice was soft, nervous. his eyes met yours and he nearly groaned as he took in your appearance, your chest rose up and down quickly as you had just ran up the stairs. your eyes were glassy and your lips plump and wet.

was he going to tell your brother what he saw? your parents? was he going to talk and laugh about you to other people? you felt embarrassed, scared. and yet as he continued to stare at you, you began to feel yourself getting soaked through your underwear.

he closed the laptop, pushing it aside. he stood up and walked over to you, with an undescribable look in his eyes that made you step back. was he angry? upset? your thoughts were cut off as he leaned down, you could feel his breath on your neck.

"keep your door unlocked tonight."

[lambertdiary]

Under The Influence

A/N: Hey! So this is was requested originally to @fluentmoviequoter: "Hii I'm utterly in love with your writing and I have a request for dalton ♡♡ basically he tries weed for the first time because he heard it help with sleeping sometimes. But he had too much and doesn't understand how he feels so he calls reader and is rambling on the phone then actually tells the reader he had weed and he wants company because he hates being alone. And then he just basically is like touch starved and is asking reader to play with his hair, hold him, play with his hands, and then he just ends up confessing his feeling for reader. If any of that makes sense 😘😘😘" unfortunately, they don't take this type of requests but when i read this i was absolutely obsessed with the idea so i knew i had to write it! i’ve never done weed so i’m sorry if this is not accurate. also i downloaded the entire movie just to get this gif, it was totally worth it. anyway pls let me know what you think!

Word count: 2.1+

Warnings: drug use, language

MASTERLIST  ✩  SEND ME A REQUEST

Dalton wasn’t the type to draw on drug use at all, but the sleepless nights were getting to him. The stress of school, his social life and the basics of keeping himself alive were enough, he didn’t wanna deal with constant weariness on top of all of that.

A few days prior, he overheard a few of his classmates talking about smoking weed before going to bed, they said it helped them relax or sleep better so as soon as he went back to his dorm he did a little research. Turns out they were right.

He couldn't stop thinking about it, especially at night when he couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, not for a long period of time anyway. His problem was so bad he saw it as a success if he slept for two hours, so he knew he needed to consider his options. And right now, he was straight up curious to try a little pot.

He didn’t know how or where to get it, but he knew someone who did.

“Come on, Chris, just this one time” He begged, putting his hands together and giving her his best puppy eyes.

“Ugh, fine” She replied annoyed “But don’t be weird about it”

“I won’t, I promise” Dalton watched excitedly as Chris pulled out her phone and sent out a text.

“What are you gonna do anyway? Paint something on acid?”

“No, just sleep” He simply said.

Chris looked at Dalton again, visibly confused “What? That’s how you’re gonna waste it?”

“No, I’m not gonna waste it, I just heard it helps with sleep so I wanna give it a try” Dalton explained almost offended, scratching his neck nervously as Chris stared at him.

“Right” She replied slowly “Do you have a pipe or something to smoke with?”

Dalton’s eyes wandered around his room “No” He didn’t really think about the preparation process.

“Well, get one” She snapped “Or I guess I can lend you one of mine if I can get your stuff for tonight”

“Tonight?” He blurted out in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s not like you asked for world peace here, relax” She stood up and started to walk out of Dalton’s dorm “I’ll let you know later though, don’t miss me too much” She said before closing the door.

Dalton pulled out his laptop and started watching videos on how to use the smoking device and other basics on how to do it for the first time. It didn’t seem too crazy, definitely nothing special, it was for a reasonable purpose anyway.

The hours went by and he kept himself busy with school work, but that didn’t stop him from checking his phone every five minutes, hoping to see Chris’ name on the screen. Nothing yet, but maybe it was for the best.

It was now nighttime and as he got a hold of his phone, he was about to text his friend asking for an update, maybe he was still on time to cancel his unusual request, but before he could open their chat he heard the door swing open.

Dalton jumped and rolled his eyes “I thought we talked about using that key…”

“Hey! Be nice, I got you a present” She squeaked, pulling a little bag out of the pocket of her hoodie.

Dalton didn’t know how to react, he thought he was excited but now he was having doubts “I… thank- thank you” He stammered. 

“Are you okay? You don’t seem thrilled about the weed you practically begged for” Chris sat on the free bed across from Dalton.

“No, I am. I’m just a little nervous, I guess” He replied, brushing his feelings off with a chuckle. He took the bag from Chris’ hand and examined it.

“You'll be okay” She dropped a few more things on Dalton’s hands, a pipe and a lighter “Now, you are gonna need these, after grinding it-”

“I know how to do it” 

“Ooh… I’m impressed” Chris teased and Dalton rolled his eyes again “Well, I hope the tutorial you found is good cause I’m gonna need these back” Standing up, she walked towards the door “Now if you excuse me, I have a bag of my own that’s not gonna go to waste” She turned around to give Dalton one last look “Go crazy, but don’t be stupid”

“Thank you!” He yelled before Chris shut the door behind her.

He went back to the video and did exactly as the guy explained. After having the grounds ready he thought about the possible outcomes, but honestly getting a full night of sleep didn’t sound so bad. Unsure on how much he should smoke, he poured the contents of the bag and packed the pipe, carefully so as to not drop anything. He held it for a moment, debating whether or not he should actually do it.

‘Fuck it’ He though to himself before grabbing the pink lighter.

He brought the pipe up to his lips and applied the flame to the end of the bowl, inhaling like in the video. He coughed after the first time, but he kept doing it, the coughs decreasing with each puff. He did it one last time and he felt… nothing, really. Was he doing it wrong? Was he scammed? He decided to give it another puff just to make sure. Still nothing.

Defeated, he dropped everything on his desk and proceeded with his bedtime routine. Grabbing his essentials for a shower, he stepped out of his room and into the communal showers. He wanted to take his time but the lack of privacy made it impossible for him to relax, so he quickly did his thing and after he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stared at himself in the mirror. Did he always feel this nauseous after a shower?

“Hey, how is it going?” Some random dude greeted him as he entered the room.

‘Oh no, does he know I just smoked something?’ Without saying a word, he swiftly walked back to his dorm, feeling the judgy eyes on him. Opening the door he noticed the smell of his room, it was so strong he was worried the entire building knew about this. He opened a window to ventilate the space but when a random headache hit him, he closed it again. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, feeling anxious. What if this was his last day on earth and he was just alone in his room? 

Dalton: Hey, are you up?

Dalton texted one of his friends, Y/N. If there was someone he needed to see before dying it was her. He kept his eyes on his screen as he waited for a reply. After a minute of not getting one he grew impatient and hit the call button instead.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No, don't worry, I’m doing some last minute homework, you know how it is” Y/N chuckled, putting her pen down for a moment.

“Right” Dalton replied in a whisper.

“Why? What’s up?” Y/N stood up and stretched her legs, she had been sitting there for a while and her body was aching.

“I… have a situation”

“Is everything ok?” She sounded a little worried.

“I’m okay…” He stopped for a moment, not sure if he wanted her to know what he had done, honestly he just wanted to see her.

“What is it then?” She insisted.

“Promise me you won't laugh” Dalton sat up and he felt himself get dizzy again. 

“Dalton, just tell me”

“I had a little bit of weed” He finally admitted.

“What?” Y/N was in pure shock, she never thought of Dalton as a stoner.

“It's not what you think, I heard it helps with sleeping and you know my situation, uh- when it comes to that so-”

“So you had weed on a school night?” She interrupted him.

“Y/N-” 

“Sorry, uh- are you okay?” She tried to be supportive but it was hard when she had so many questions.

“Come over”

“Right now?”

“Please”

“Um- I don't know…” She hesitated looking back at her unfinished homework.

“What if I die tonight? You would feel really guilty you didn’t come over” Dalton heard Y/N sigh on the other line and he knew for a fact she was rolling her eyes.

After a moment of silence, Y/N finally agreed “Fine, but don’t die” She hung up and grabbed a few things before leaving her dorm. It was a really short walk and she didn’t think she would stay there for too long. 

When Dalton heard the confirmation from Y/N, he quickly stood up and looked through his drawers, trying to find something to wear. He was feeling hot (even though he just took a cold shower) so he decided on a tank top and shorts. His head was still spinning and unfortunately lost his balance as he finished getting dressed, but immediately got back on his feet when he heard the door.

Knocking a couple of times, she heard the loud thud coming from inside, followed by steps getting closer to the door.

“Thank you for coming” Dalton said as he opened the door.

“Are you ok-” She was interrupted by Dalton’s embrace “Oh”

They closed the door after fully entering the dorm and Y/N took Dalton’s hand, dragging him across the room to make him sit on the bed “Jesus dude, open a fucking window, I could smell this from the entrance” She joked as she struggled to open it.

“You could?” Dalton’s eyes widened and Y/N suppressed a grin, something in the softness of his voice made her heart skip a beat, completely oblivious to her own feelings. 

“How much did you have?” She then examined his desk, looking at the empty bag and the mess of burned grounds around the pipe.

“Like, the whole thing”

Y/N turned her head to look at him again “You’re kidding”

“What?” He anxiously asked.

“Dalton, you smoked this entire bag?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“Dude-”

“Chris didn’t say anything about how much I should have so-”

“Chris gave you the weed?”

“Well… yeah, but I asked for it”

“And I take it you’ve never done this before” Dalton shook his head slowly, reaching for Y/N and taking her hand forcing her get closer, he opened his legs so that Y/N could comfortably stand between them, and as Dalton embraced her again, Y/N’s hands went to his wet hair and started brushing it with her fingers.

“I’m not feeling very good” He whispered against her.

“Yeah, I bet” She then grabbed Dalton’s head and made him look up at her, keeping her hands on the sides of his head “But you’re not gonna die, this is gonna wear off, you just have to give it time”

“Alright” Y/N chuckled at how Dalton looked like a lost puppy “I wanna lay down”

Y/N climbed on Dalton’s bed and positioned her back against the wall, helping Dalton get comfortable as he softly collapsed on her lap “So, who told you to try weed before bed?”

“No one, I heard some kids talking about it in class” He explained, closing his eyes “I didn’t want this to happen, I just- I wanted to actually sleep through the night and not feel like I was a walking corpse the next day… Well, now I would prefer that, weed does NOT make me feel relaxed at all”

Y/N smiled again. She never would’ve thought someone’s rambling could be so… endearing “I can see that, next time try to take it slow”

“Nuh uh, I’m never doing this again” He stated, using a firm tone.

Her eyes looked down at him with affection, stroking his soft hair as he rested his own eyes. And despite what he just said, he looked peaceful for the first time in a while.

“Y/N” He said softly, blinking his blue eyes open and looking at her. Whatever kind of effect he was on at that moment, he knew for sure it wasn’t from the weed.

“Mhm” Y/N hummed, smiling down at him.

“Y/N” He repeated, slower. He lifted his hand and it landed on her cheek, bringing his thumb up and down as he brushed her soft skin. She panicked as she realized what he was about to do.

He opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything Y/N quickly stopped him “If you’re going to confess something, I would very much prefer you didn’t do it under the influence of weed”

His face turned red and he closed his eyes to try to hide the embarrassment “As you wish”

[thesafecafe]

Eat Me: Feb Filth Fest day 7

CW + Disclaimer: 18+, MDNI, accidental aphrodisiac usage/ingestion, overstimulation, Husband! Yeosang, multiple orgasms, ab riding (brief), choking with a belt, fem! reader, pet names (mama, baby girl, doll, etc.), oral (mostly fem rec), unprotected sex (don’t), possessive sex, body worship, making out, heightened senses (smell, taste, etc.), cream pie, Yeosang and the mc are freaks, (this is also partially inspired by an idea I had a while back), smut under the cut, enjoy! 

Disclaimer: I do not believe that the members of Ateez would act in this way in real life, nor is this meant to be a reflection or guide to their real personalities. This is a fictional depiction for entertainment purposes.

Words: 1,738

“Are you sure those are safe to eat? Seonghwa looked a bit eager giving them to us, like, too eager.” You watched as your husband, Yeosang, took out a box of sweets from the fridge. “Well, he said the other members enjoyed them a lot, and he wanted us to relax and have a nice time together while we’re on vacation. He’s just being nice.” You didn’t doubt that Seonghwa would genuinely want you to enjoy your vacation, but the way he looked when he  handed Yeosang the box was enough to put you on guard. Like he was expecting something. “He wanted us to eat them then, I’m sure. He all but said so when he was hovering over them.” You huffed as Yeosang sat next to you, flicking your nose. 

“Oh just hush and have a cookie, would you? It’s not like it’s poison.” Yeosang sassed you, pushing a heart shaped cookie into your mouth. You made a noise in protest, but decided to take a bite of it at least.As you tasted the soft cookie and delicate frosting, you quickly found yourself wanting more. Before you knew it, the cookie was gone, and you were reaching for another. Yeosang laughed at you, extending the box in your direction. “I guess it’s a good thing that the cookies say ‘eat me’ on the front. You’re going to eat them all, hey!” He snatched the box back, seeing that you’d taken at least five more. “The rest are mine!” 

You giggled at his indignant protests, sitting back in your seat. Soon, the both of you had finished off the box, relaxing into your afternoon activities. Yeosang read a book, while you typed away on your laptop, a comfortable silence overtaking you, and the little box of cookies was momentarily forgotten. You’d forgotten all about your previous worry, believing that it would be a peaceful afternoon.

___________________________

One hour was all it took for everything to come crashing down. You were laying back  in your recliner, minding your business, when you started to feel hot. It was odd, since you only had on a cropped hoodie and shorts. It was steadily getting hotter, and you were starting to become hyper aware of things. Has the light  in the kitchen always been so bright? And has the scent of Yeosang’s soap always been so strong? You were almost willing to ignore the new sensation, if not for the intense ache in between your legs. You shifted your hips, trying to ease the sudden throbbing in your core, but the more you moved, the more you felt yourself spilling into your shorts.

Yeosang was faring no better across from you. Trying to read his book in peace, he too felt hot and bothered. He could hear the slick sounds of your movements as you tried to adjust yourself comfortably. He caught himself glacing at you over the pages of the book subtly, trying not to make it harder on himself. But as he looked at your thighs shifting, he felt a hunger, a need  to be inside you, to taste your skin as he filled you up in the best way possible. He was debating on how to approach the topic, when you called his name.

“Yeosang?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended, but you didn’t mind. Yeosang lowered his book to his lap, looking at you over his glasses. “Yes my love?” You beckoned for him to come to you, and he obeyed, kneeling by your legs. “Is… is something the matter, love?” Yeosang swallowed thickly, nervously fixing his glasses. His hands came to rest on your thighs, and you lost it. Grabbing Yeosang’s shirt, you quickly pulled him up into the chair, bringing his lips to yours. He let out a small cry of surprise as your lips collided, his glasses flying off. You kissed him fervently, and he kissed you back, gripping onto your waist.

You reached for his shirt, helping him to shrug out of it. He latched onto the side of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses down to your throat. His hand slid down to your shorts, tugging at the material. You pushed him away from you for a moment, pulling off your shorts. Yeosang cussed under his breath. You were dripping, your arousal leaking out of you and sliding down your legs. “Fuck, you’re soaking, doll. Come here.” Yeosang pulled you close, kissing you once more before pushing you down into the seat again. He kneeled before you, putting your legs over his shoulders. Pulling you close to his mouth, he parted your lips with his tongue. Licking from your hole to your clit, he sucked on it harshly. You moaned, gripping the arms of your recliner as his tongue twisted around your clit. 

Moving down to your entrance, Yeosang pushed his tongue into you, reveling in the feeling of your walls spasming against his tongue. He swirled his tongue, pushing it back and forth, and side to side. His fingers rubbed at your clit, and as your moans got louder, he knew you were close. Pulling his tongue out, he brought it slowly back up to your pearl. He did his favorite tongue trick. Your orgasm washed over you, and Yeosang caught most of it on his tongue, lapping up the mess he made. Catching your breath, you looked down at him watching as he licked his lips clean. He stood up, pulling you with him. He pulled you quickly towards your shared bedroom, the both of you unable to keep your hands to yourself on the way. You barely made it into the hallway before he was pressing you against the wall.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands were on your hips as he kissed you. Using his arms, he helped you move against his abdomen, flexing his abs as your core slid against him. He sucked along the base of your throat, and you cried out as he found your sweet spot. “Please Sangie, please, I need you in me, please.” You begged pathetically as he pressed you harder against the wall. Reluctantly, he pulled his face from your neck, his eyes dark with lust. Pulling you away from the wall, he carried you into the bedroom, carefully setting you on the bed. He took a step back, observing you. “Take off your top. Bra too.” He watched as you took them off, baring yourself to him completely, before reaching down to his belt  It was your turn to watch as his ring clad fingers undid his belt, swiftly taking it off and pushing down his pants. 

Stepping towards the bed again, Yeosang beckoned you over. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you crawled over to him. Siting up on your knees, you tugged his underwear down, and he stepped out of them, leaving him completely bare. His impressive length hung heavy between his legs, thick, veiny, and proud. Leaning forward, you sucked the tip between your lips, slowly swirling your tongue around it. Yeosang groaned, spurring you on. Taking him in your hand, you moved from the tip, gliding your tongue over his skin, licking up and down his length until it glistened. Pushing you back onto the bed, Yeosang spread your legs, settling between them.

Still holding onto his belt, he wrapped it around your wrists, before sliding into you. You moaned as he stretched you out, never getting completely used to the way he practically split you open. “You ready baby girl?” Yeosang’s voice was gentle as he addressed you, the look in his eyes making your breath hitch. Nodding, you gave him the okay to move. His eyes darkened once more, and he pulled his hips back, before slamming them into yours. You cried out as he continued, his hips relentless as he brought you towards your end. Yeosang kissed along you neck as he pounded you into the bed.

“Such a good girl for me. You take me so well doll, so perfect for me. My perfect doll, only I get to feel you like this, yeah?” He praised you as he marked your neck, your whimpers and moans serving as encouragement for him. “Always making me feel so good, baby, so pretty and warm, just for me.” Your walls spasmed around him, and Yeosang knew you were close. His free hand found your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed at it, bringing you to your second orgasm of the night.  You moaned so loudly, you were sure you’d get noise complaints from the neighbors, but you felt too good to care. But as you were coming down, you realized that your husband  hadn’t stopped yet, not even through your second release.

Your walls convulsed at the feeling of overstimulation, slight pain mixing with pleasure. As the feeling became too much, you tried to  get away, pushing yourself towards the headboard. Yeosang was having none of it, pulling you back by your legs. “Don’t try to run from me, mama,” he panted, “we’re just getting started.” He stuck out his tongue, focusing as he continued to drill his hips into yours, mercilessly fucking you into the bed. Your third release of the night had you gripping the sheets, crying out his name. “That’s right doll, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.” Yeosang came not long after you, his warmth spilling into you. Pulling himself back, Yeosang carefully pulled out of you, before flipping you over.

“Arch your back for me doll.” Yeosang took the belt from your wrist, waiting for you to get adjusted before he slid his length back into you, deeper this time. Yeosang held back from groaning, preferring this position most of all. His pace was more brutal this time, and his hands held your hips so tightly, there would definitely be marks the next day. Wrapping the belt tightly  around your neck, Yeosang pulled you up, your back flat against his chest.

One hand held the belt tightly, partially restricting your air flow, as the other came down to toy with your clit once again. Your vision started to blur as you were on the brink of your fourth release of the night. “So so good, pl-please, don’t stop!” Your words were slurred, but Yeosang got the message loud and clear. “Oh don’t worry baby. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

___________

@minhyuuk, ​@hijeongguk @mintmoose64, @treasure-hwa, @atinyszn, @hwalysm, @k-drizzle​, @doom-fics