#but thanks anon. It's always good to be reminded

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day — a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[justleaveacommentfest]

Not an ask, but a story about leaving comments -- not long ago, I left a comment on a fic from almost 10 years ago where the author, in their end notes, discussed how proud they were to have finished this fic (it was an incredible fic that was over 100,000 words long because they're a god and I would also just be shaky in the knees if I accomplished something so long and profound); and they also talked in their author's note how strange it was to be the ages of 22-24 when they were writing this fic and how things weren't always easy, and that they hoped the future was bright for them.

I commented about my life, right now, how I came to find their fic a decade years later from when they finished (a little sheepishly, it feels weird to talk about yourself, but it felt important somehow) -- anyways, I also talked about how reading their author's note reminded me very much of how I felt right now, and how different the world is now from 2015, and how this fic made me feel all kinds of nostalgic and good and hopeful about growing older, and how my god they were this good at 22 and I hope they're still writing -- and even if not, I hope all these years later they really are in a better place.

They replied. They replied! I was so delighted! They are indeed in their thirties! and they are indeed still writing! Things haven't gone as expected, but they've got a healthier dose of perspective on life and how to cope with the hard times now. And it was just so heartwarming to hear and learn about them. And to know that they're still around!

Just seeing that, seeing these people who write about hard times nine years ago, and leaving a comment and getting a reply, it just brings so much hope. Because you never know! You never know if someone's still going to be here, and so when they are it's kind of a-- not a miracle, but it just feels like I'm suddenly so very aware of my existence in the world and theirs too and it just -- it MATTERS. And ao3 and fanfiction in general is so unique to most media where you stare at a television or read a book, you can engage with the creator of that thing you're reading RIGHT THEN AND THERE. And you may not get a reply, or you might get this touching response that lets you feel like you're less alone in the world. It's worth the chance, right? That's what building community and stuff is all about! You can make so many friends this way!

And even if they never reply, don't you want them to know how important their story was to you? And it doesn't matter if the story was finished a decade ago or just posted yesterday, there's still a person that's there that gets to see how their art made an impact on the world. I've made a couple of friends doing this -- and even if I'm not making a friend, I hope I make someone's day a little brighter. God knows I'm always delighted whenever someone comments on my fics.

I admit I'm not perfect -- I don't always comment on fics that I read. I'm trying to be better, I've got a list of fics that I definitely should have written a comment on that I've been going through and writing out how I feel about their writing because damn people are just so talented. This wasn't for just leave a comment fest, I admit, but I do love to see your blog and your drive because it is such an important thing for writers.

I didn't know you were doing a valentines day thing, but what a great idea! I wanted to share my experience, hopefully inspire some other people to go out and comment, and now I'm going to go check another fic off my list of ones that I'd like to comment on. Better late than never!

Have a great day! and Happy Valentine's Day Just Leave a Comment Mini Fest!

I AM HOOTING AND HOLLERING I AM PLAYING THE XYLOPHONE ON MY RIB CAGE WHAT A STORY!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION TO HAVE MADE THROUGH COMMENTS!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE HAD!!

ANON THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS HAS MADE THIS SKELETON'S DAY

[gnohomotho]

Hello there,

Valentines day tomorrow, and ofc i am a lonely gorl, so i thought about husband!junho making the day special for his wife? Fluff, fluff, fluff bc i am sensetive lol

Keep up the good work btw

You are doing amazing on here ❤️❤️😚

Aww, Anon, sending a big virtual hug your way. ♥ I'm sorry you're a lonely gorl. :c I am too, so please, I really hope this eases the loneliness just a little bit!

I have one slightly longer, but hopefully fluffy and very loving piece specially for Valentine's Day.

Thank you so, so very much, it truly means a lot to me. ♥♥♥ c':

(And if you like it, I really appreciate the reblogs, you're all so very lovely!)

Enjoy! .

.

.

Even If You Had Walked Away

Pairing: husband!Jun-ho x wife!f!reader Summary: Valentine's Day hides more than just a loving date for you, and Jun-ho knows this very well. It is a reminder of a day he almost lost you - and he has a surprise for you, for all those years, in one single evening. Warnings: Fluff! So much fluff. A tiny bit of angst, but I promise it ends in fluff. Please pack your insulin. Word count: 3.2k A/N: I hope you feel lovely on this day and all the next. ♥ Love your requests and your messages! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡

Oh.

This day.

Valentine’s Day.

Somehow, each year, you managed to find a way to plan over it, and Jun-ho just as meticulously managed to pull you back in.

Last year, it was notes left around the house, your car suspiciously warm before you got in, and your favourite breakfast cooked before you left. He knew you would be worried about big gestures – he knew, but not quite, what the day signified for you. So when you saw him in the kitchen, after a sleepy kiss on his neck as he slowly turned around to greet you, you expected nothing more.

“Darling?” You looked at him softly, a little quizzically, as you always do when you’re a bit worried things aren’t as fine as they seem. You did so as you pulled away from the cuddle and felt his body pull with yours, not wanting to leave your embrace or your warmth.

One strong arm was still holding yours – lightly, but with deep affection. Jun-ho did not wish to sever the connection between you by letting go even for a second. Slowly he slid his arm around you, letting it rest against your back, should he need to pull you close again.

You waited for your answer but could not resist the peaceful warmth of the moment, and lifted a hand – tenderly brushing the hair from his forehead and sliding down to cup his cheek. Instinctively, Jun-ho closes his eyes and leans into your palm, caressing you as he does so.

Even as your touch leaves, he remains quiet, and you look at your husband with new eyes. Still in casual clothing, still just your Jun-ho, swaying with you in his favourite black v-neck shirt that you associate with only him and his sleepy form.

How many nights have you woken up to this shape, this broad chest, inches from yours...or suddenly lifting and falling peacefully against your own heart.

How many times have those strong arms unabashedly stolen your much contested blanket only to wrap you up thoroughly in its place.

How many times did those legs lovingly intertwine with yours the moment your alarm clock rang, his sleepy voice murmuring sweet nothings of discontent and forcing you to set your alarms ten minutes before their actual time because his legs and fervour at keeping you close were strong.

And somehow, with your thigh firmly against his, aided by his own, your calves wrapped in his warmth and so very close, your tummy tucked so comfortably and perfectly to your sleeping love you could feel him breathe, well, you learned to set your alarm a full half hour before its actual time.

And now, though his form looms over you, you feel entirely safe; though it is snowing fluffy snowflakes outside, you are brimming with fluttering, affectionate warmth that could keep a fireplace alight for days. Though the day isn’t your happiest, you might as well have forgotten the number on the calendar.

And Jun-ho, with his gentle smile reaching his eyes, was only swaying with you ever se so slightly as he held your hips, thumbs tucked up against your waist; the smile was cheeky, but incredibly sweet.

You melt in his touch and almost let a little laugh carry the mood – he couldn’t look cunning or devilish if he tried. Not to you. But he was trying, and you did not wish to ruin his sincere attempts.

“Hmm?” He humms with a little inflection, nonchalantly, still smiling. As if saying “nothing to see here, officer,” though he was obviously not used to being on the other side of the law. And it showed. Before you answer, Jun-ho almost unnoticeably shifts you with a gentle tug where his arms and fingers rest against your skin – you notice nothing but a little dig into each of your hips – and kisses your forehead the moment gravity trips you into him. Clever, you grin into the crane of Jun-ho’s neck and kiss his chin in retaliation.

“I don’t think all is going according to schedule, sweetheart.” He pulls away and smiles the sentence into existence, a hint of genuine care for your wellbeing crossing his visage. Jun-ho’s eyes move towards the window, then to your phone resting on the table. You follow his gaze and your heart momentarily sinks.

“Are we seriously getting snowed in? How will I get to…”

“I’m pretty sure that phone lit up with messages regarding not coming to work, darling…and,” Jun-ho looks upwards as if thinking, truly acting his way into the Oscars here, playfully ponders around, “if I know anything about the wiring and the outlay of that building, I am highly inclined to assume you’d be sitting by candlelight, using folded paper in place of a computer if you really wanted to try and keep up appearances.”

After a small moment, he added, “and I don’t want my Y/N alone by candlelight with anyone else, thank you very much.”

He kisses your forehead again without warning, but you feel him smile into the kiss. As he pulls away, you almost regret brushing his hair away from his forehead, because that single eyebrow lift abetted by that absolutely cheeky smile should be illegal.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You did your best trying to work from home, finding it very hard to focus. The nicer and more wistful your thoughts were towards Jun-ho, the more a slight pang of guilt tore its way into your chest.

A few years ago, you almost broke up.

And the thought cementing it, the thought where you couldn’t keep it up anymore...came on Valentine’s Day.

You did not wish to do it then (as mean as it was clichéd) and Jun-ho laid it all out on the table – a beautiful dinner date and absolute honesty. You fell in love with him, then, all over again, when you truly thought it would be a sad end to a broken coupling.

Many things played their part back then – his secrecy, his constant disappearing, his excuses for being gone for so long.

His face was so very troubled back then, deepened with new stress lines and new worries each time you saw him – each time, the moments you spent apart seemed to use a sharper knife on his face whenever they returned him back to you.

Sometimes you worried they would keep him.

You were suffocating and so incredibly distraught. When he left. You worried. When he was with you. He wasn’t. Not truly. And you worried more.

The weight that he refused to share with you was dragging you both down into the depths of the ocean and no matter how much you tried, how strong your grip, how intricate your angle – you could not unravel him from whatever was at the end of the rope.

Somehow, you even tried to suspect cheating, though you knew he would never do that – simply for the fact that whatever he was doing was far more dangerous than another woman. And through all, you truly, deeply cared about Jun-ho. And Jun-ho knew that what you had between you, the love he held for you and the love held in your tender chest for him – held the sharpest blade of all.

What was it, back then? Your love extended past simple ownership or relationship status – if he were to be with someone else or alone, but safe and content, sleeping through the night, you would very bitterly but gladly swallow that pill. And he knew it. He knew it and sensed you pulling away.

Jun-ho wasn’t content with distance from you, never. One day, he came back, close to this particular date. His hair was dishevelled, his clothes smelling of salt and seawater, his eyes dim and tired, and his hands covered in scrapes and scratches.

But his eyes, his eyes stared into yours with resolute burning depth, speaking with no words necessary. Jun-ho loved you, and did not wish to lose you, nor endanger you, and he was as lost in the cruelty of the situation as you were. But above it all was a silent promise. Your mind wanders away, for its own safety, as your eyes begin to sparkle – your skin suddenly enveloped in frost.

Doubts. Worries.

Is he happy? Is he regretting the choice? Did I mess up a loving date forever and remind him each year? Does he ever wish to…go back and reverse it all? All of it? Go back to a time he never met me, go back and erase the wedding, the proposal, was there ever any doubt in that lovely smile?

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

A little knock on the door to your make-shift office alerts you from tables and notes. You look up, and realise the soft orange light reflecting the snowy cape on your window is the streetlamp, and it is dark outside.

“Yes?”

Jun-ho slowly opens the door, dressed in a comfortable, but elegant sweater, long dark trousers, and sensible socks.

You blink.

You blink again.

“Jun-ho? Is…what’s going on?”

He can’t be going anywhere, the snow outside is as beautiful and tranquil as it is all-enveloping.

Jun-ho says nothing, a knowing smile dancing on his lips as he stands in the door; he makes a small leaning motion with his neck, closing his eyes as he points out of your door without using a single word. He had the air of someone who knows all there is to know, and what he doesn’t does not matter.

And in this moment, you were all he wished to know.

“I’ll just…I’ll just put on something nice, you look too lovely.”

You manage to stutter, but he has already covered half your distance and is extending a hand to you.

“You look beautiful, my love. You always look beautiful. I have never seen you in a piece of clothing that could even begin to rival your features, Y/N. Come.”

You take his hand and he leads you to the living room. You adjust your eyes to the reassuring darkness that is softly illuminated by guttering candlelight of many, many little flames.

They hop as you disturb the air – dancing and fluttering in seemingly the same anticipation you are feeling in your chest. Cushions are arranged into a cute, comfy, fort-like bed. A little makeshift table sits in the middle, your favourite flower resting upon it next to a meal you…you shared on the day a few years ago.

He…he remembers.

Your hand grips Jun-ho’s, both to steady itself and to convey your utter adoration for your husband.

In this moment. In the next. In all moments to come.

You are lost for words, heart beating out of your chest, you wish to thank him, to hold him, to jump into his arms and push him into the pillows he so lovingly arranged – you want to whisper sweet ‘I love yous’ into his neck and chest and hear his heart jump at each touch, you want to melt in his arms and his tenderness and lose your train of thought.

“Jun-ho…this is…this is so beautiful, I don’t know what to say…”

But Jun-ho pulls away from you, still holding both your hands, now standing far enough to leave both your arms extended. His eyes rest upon you with affectionate tranquility – his fingers are softly circling yours as he holds you. Slowly he lets go of your hand and lifts a single finger to his mouth, in a small hushing motion. You say nothing more, but your melted heart doesn’t do well with surprises. Not on this day.

Jun-ho turns and leaves your other hand empty, taking the flower from the table and resting it in his place.

It’s beautiful, gentle, elegant. Your very favourite. You close your eyes and inhale its smell.

Jun-ho watches you intently. Eyes filled with the same knowing adoration he watched you with all those years ago. He wonders how he managed to get so very lucky. How foreign the thought of you seemed back then.

You, standing in your shared living room, smelling a flower and blissfully, beautifully, utterly his to love and cherish.

His wife – with her hair cascading down like a beautiful river, the lines of worry gone from her face, her tender eyes that could spark a fire in a lake now peaceful, loving, resting upon a flower as beautiful as her.

You notice the slow fall of his eyelids as he watches you, eyes closing in adoration and joining a subtle, guarded smile. Jun-ho clears his throat and leans back to the makeshift table, pulling a note from behind the candle in its centre.

Was it your imagination or did his hands shiver in the flame’s warm light?

“Y/N…my Y/N…” he begins, and no, that wasn’t your imagination. The paper contracted a wave from his grip as he steadied his breath.

“I…know what today represents. To you. To us.”

He looks up, looks at you, steadies his breath, and the smile nervously spreads – but you see the fervour in his expression to keep matters serious.

Jun-ho continues, eyes firmly buried in the letter.

“But I don’t think you know what it represents to me.”

Oh.

A twinge of worry. Ice prickles the small of your back. Those doubts threaten to break the warm atmosphere, yet he continues.

“It’s the day I almost lost what was most dear to me.”

Your eyebrows stiffen as your gaze fills with both concern for him and a need to hold him tight.

“I felt you slipping away each day, and with that, I felt as if I was losing parts of myself. As if each heartbeat in your presence catalysed by your warmth, by your presence alone, wasn’t mine to keep anymore."

"Each touch we shared, each breath I exhaled – it was as if all the warmth in me, all the good things that were growing so few and far between within me back then, all of them wished to remain with you."

"And I am sorry, my sweet, my darling Y/N…I am sorry that I, for even a moment, almost let them leave with you."

"I knew you would keep them safe, I knew you would hold them, protect them, care for them with the tenderness and love you hold in your heart for each being you encounter – and you would expect nothing in return."

"I watched sorrow, worry, frustration and finally, the most painful of all…acceptance caress your beautiful face and shine through your eyes. Dimming those unconditionally accepting eyes I did not deserve."

"Offering a pale reflection of what was left of me without you.”

Your hands were trembling. His large yet gentle form in front of you was losing its sharp lines; the scene began to blur into a soft orange hue as you realised your eyes failed to hold onto their tears. Though it was Jun-ho, he seemed…so very delicate in this moment. Laying himself utterly bare before you. Your heart was sending ripples through your body. You wished to hold him, kiss him, reassure him. But remained still. Your husband continued.

“Each year, I wrote down what was following me every time I thought of that night. I wrote of what I love about you – but managed to run out of paper.”

He let out a small, self-soothing chuckle, failing to meet your eyes, and you noticed the candles reflecting a few errant sparkles in their corner. Oh, Jun-ho…

He blinked his eyes quite harshly and continued.

“So I wrote down all the reasons…you should be happy without me.”

He breathed out a faintly shaking breath and let the silence speak for him. Exhaling once more, he now sounded like the weight was beginning to leave his chest and grip his shoulders with less strength.

“Which proved incredibly fruitless.” Jun-ho straightened, narrowing his eyes towards the paper, still avoiding yours.

“Not that you did not deserve to be happy, not that the reasons weren’t both valid and sound – but I refused to let you go without a fight. To lose something I breathe for, someone I keep safe in a place inside of my heart no one else may enter, come hell or high water, someone whose voice alone brings nothing but joy and serenity to all it touches…losing that…by doing nothing but letting her go?”

Jun-ho finally looked up at you, eyes sparkling, and that smile – that beautiful, wide smile you loved so much, underlining his words:

“Well, we couldn’t have that.”

You let out a quiet, incredibly nervous yet sweet noise that was intended to be laughter before it got caught in your throat. Tears fall once again, the motion and exhale alleviating the built tension in your heart and chest.

Tension and strain caught wrestling with a wave of all-encompassing love aimed straight for Jun-ho.

It was already flooding you from tip to toe, and you had no words. No words at all. Your hand slowly lifts up to your lips, shielding your mouth as you try to hide your expression, your tears, your smile – and still, Jun-ho continues.

“So each year, I wrote something else. Something concerning every reason I would fight for you again.”

He lowered the paper now, arms at his sides, looking directly at you.

“And again, and again, and again if needed.”

You let your hand leave your mouth, slowly letting it fall to your side too, caught in the waves starting to pool in the soles of your feet, you were sure he had to feel them too.

“Unfortunately,” he half-laughed, half smiled, getting rid of the last of the tension in his body as he rested the letter back on the table, “the weight of that almanac threatened to break our bookshelf.”

Jun-ho stepped closer to you, beckoning your hand with his slowly extending, up-turned palm. You laid yours upon it immediately, relishing the familiar safety, the beautiful warmth, the love emanating from each brush of his fingertips.

“And although the physical copy exists, safely stored away, I thought it better to translate every word for my wife into a language she might prefer.”

Jun-ho closes the distance between you and softly places his other arm around your waist, resting his hand in the small of your back.

With a small pull, he softly, leans into you and kisses your forehead.

“A language which I would most certainly love to express.”

He kisses the bridge of your nose right between your brows, slowly planting kisses down to the tip of your nose, then finally, finally ending upon your mouth. Jun-ho’s soft lips caress yours without kissing just yet, brushing, enjoying, cherishing…a tender whisper circles your ear:

“Would that be alright, miss Y/N? I hear your husband is terrible with words.”

You both start giggling at the same exact second, momentarily leaving each other’s lips to bask in the intimacy and bliss of the moment.

“Of course, Jun-ho, I mean, Mr. Officer and Official Translator, I would be delighted to learn.”

Jun-ho needed no further signal to scoop you up into his arms as if it were nothing to him, momentarily holding and enjoying your warmth, your laughter, your body against his. With a little circling motion he holds you closer, squeezing you tight and softly, gently, without letting even an inch of skin go without his touch, lays you into the pillows below.

And follows straight after with that beautiful, mischievous grin you fell in love with all those years ago.

[blissfulbluee]

457 theory

gi-hun and in-ho have very different views of each other. gi-hun simply sees in-ho as an alliance, and a potential friend, if he isn’t one already.

with in-ho, things are way more complex. i’ll point out the obvious first; he’s obsessed with gi-hun. this obsession is mainly rooted in jealousy, confusion, and hurt. “why does he still have hope for society, and faith in humanity?” is a question he’s ruminated more than once. it’s painful to see someone endure the same trauma and become a better person because of it when you can’t do the same.

in-ho is drawn to gi-hun out of a desire to put an internal conflict to rest. he knows gi-hun’s mere existence represents the fact truly good people exist, and always have, and always will. he’s been aware of this since before gi-hun was a player. in his eyes, however, those people are either weak and taken advantage of, or there aren’t enough of them to make real change. he felt this was confirmed when the strategy he used in the games led him to victory- one i imagine was similar to sang-woo’s.

seeing someone with a different approach win made him wonder if his callousness was in vain. he justified his actions by telling himself gi-hun got lucky, and hoped he’d build a future around that luck. now, years later, he’s back to play the hero? he feels bad that his attempt is in vain, but at least he’ll learn his lesson; the system and those who play by its rules prevail.

a part of him hopes gi-hun will prove him wrong. he sees his past self in him; a man without his current philosophy. anyway, it’s definitely possible that there’s a homoerotic element to this fixation, as many people fall in love with people who remind them of themselves, but it will never be reciprocated after what he’s done. sad because in another universe they’d be a cute couple 😔

Hi! Thanks for the ask. Sorry for the delayed response. I think this is a good way to look at the ship, and is closer to canon than other things I have seen about them.

Yes, I agree that Gi-hun sees in-ho as a friend when he is Young-il.

I like how you bring up the jealousy and everything being the cause of the obsession (which is undeniable to me. he is absolutely obsessed with him in canon just not in the shipping way) I haven't thought a lot about how envious it would be for him to see how different they turned out.

I do also agree that In ho sees Gi-hun as weak for his morals. I think he wants to essentially teach him his ways, to maybe get him to be like him so that all of that envy goes away. he just has some very cruel and very homosexual methods. LMAO

I SO wish we could somehow get a universe where Gi-hun and past In-ho interact. That way we can have old man yaoi without the toxic nature for a change, even though that is what makes them so interesting.

People clown on shippers for shipping such a toxic ship that is essentially one sided as you mention, but thats the beauty of it. We don't necessarily find it pretty if they end up together. Sometimes we enjoy the one sided things because that's different from a typical romance. AND you can still enjoy it without getting as toxic/dark as possible.

You're right about everything anon. I wish I could say more but I am currently being hit with random exhaustion and you're really saying everything I am thinking lol.

[chaos-has-theories]

get better dreams girl its not too late

I do have better dreams tbh. Like - if I actually won the lottery I could eventually buy and renovate a house! I could have my desk and my bed in SEPARATE ROOMS. I might even be able to have TWO ROOMS with desks in it. That's the real dream.

But... I'm still studying. I don't have any idea where I'll end up working. I wouldn't want to move immediately. I'd get to focus on writing and studying more, but I'd still follow my other plans, if a little more slowly.

But I guess the real tell for if I won the lottery (aside from the fact that I actually wouldn't fully keep it secret) is.... well, I'd get a whole-country train ticket. I might go visit various cities on the weekends. Most importantly, I'd stop getting frightened every time I take a little longer in a class.

But yeah. I'd also get some new bins and a label maker. Though I might also get them if I just, like, get a second job.

[grimowled]

; ooc

[galaxythreads]

I have a theory about DMBLLIA: because Loki is blind and has amnesia(?), he still thinks he's in Sanctuary

If I'm correct, I want you to know that it's so evil and that I love you for that

You know, one of my favorite things in the whole world is predictions about my writing and I am so glad you sent this to me. I've been thinking about it all day. Like I do something and then I think about this.

I will neither confirm nor deny this, but ;)

[rosicheeks]

i started making that playlist for you the first time i saw your angelic face!

so far it has 165 songs, 9 hours and 46 minutes

i add to it every time i hear a song that is worthy of you 💕

EXCUSE ME?!!!?!?!?!?!???!!!!?!

[1o1percentmilk]

sorry if this is completely unsolicited advice, you can ignore me if you want, but you don't need to be good at something to do it if you like it. that's what a hobby is, just something you do because you like it. and i get the feeling of Wanting To Be Good At It but you have to be bad at it first to get good

oh, thank you, and i really mean it and i believe in the same thing you do, but for me it's less about being good at something (i am aware that i'm actually decent at most things), it is just that i also, well i wouldn't say i dislike my hobbies, but i dont exactly like them either, i just have to force myself to do stuff.

IMO it's really easy to do things badly because you genuinely really like them, but it's harder to do things well that you're indifferent towards. I'm wishing I had the passion, not the talent.

[blindmagdalena]

I love seeing you post peoples homelander songs and it's been a hot minute since I've seen one sooo... kiss me son of God by they might be giants, maniac by phoebe green, twenties by ghost, uprising by muse, and my way by frank sinatra. Those are THE homelander songs.

ohhh these are GOOD... i especially love Twenties, that song goes so hard. you would not believe the music video i've made up in my head for it.

i haven't heard these two before and i REALLY am digging both.

I look like Jesus, so they say But Mr. Jesus is very far away Now you're the only one here who can tell me if it's true That you love me and I love me (Kiss Me Son of God)

Your fragile heart and your paper skin Such a beautiful boy filled with so much sin Your reflection is your very worst enemy Behind the glass is an angel, but the devil's beneath You smile at the moon even though it's haunting you You wonder if it ever feels as lonely as you do (Maniac)

UGGHHH I LOVE MUSE... Uprising works so well as a song for supes in general, honestly. such a good anthem for them vs Vought. i feel like i've seen it mentioned around here in that context before.

Paranoia is in bloom The PR transmissions will resume They'll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down And hope that we will never see the truth around (So come on) Another promise, another scene Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed And all the green belts wrapped around our minds And endless red tape to keep the truth confined (So come on) They will not force us They will stop degrading us They will not control us We will be victorious frank sinatra and tony bennett are two of my go-tos when i'm craving those 60s vibes!!!! My Way is an absolutely IMPECCABLE pull. this was a knock out list start to finish anon. drop the homelander playlist!!!!

Regrets, I've had a few But then again too few to mention I did what I had to do I saw it through without exemption I planned each charted course Each careful step along the byway And more, much, much more I did it, I did it my way Yes, there were times I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew But through it all, when there was doubt I ate it up and spit it out I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way (My Way)

[despairforme]

Maybe this is just one big ego stroke, and so be it, but the new Brave Souls outfit looks so damn good! The giant arm? Perfect. The hunting knife for up close and personal kills? Immaculate. The ponytail? Swoon. The low torn tank top is just a big cherry on a damn good-looking cake~!

WOW, for real? Someone was actually saying something NICE about him? This was new. Recently he'd been getting nothing but insults ( you reap what you sow? ) . Being called good looking was a welcome change. Would he call it a big ego stroke? Nah, but he sure as shit wasn't going to complain about it. Who WOULDN'T feel good about having their looks ( or outfit ) complimented like this? Nnoitra wasn't too concerned with his appearance, hence why the compliment didn't hit home hard. Still, he grinned, puffing his chest up like he was proud.

❝ Ya got a weird-ass taste, but hell yeah, finally someone who AIN'T bein' a fuckin' asshole. ❞ He'd take this sort of treatment ANY DAY.

[formulapisces]

rip phone 😭😭 I am going to eat some ripe papaya to celebrate hehe. I put on some warm socks so I feel better too 😌🦇

how long does it take to handle this dmmflf it's been ages 😭😭

you’re fancier than i am, i really snuck downstairs and got JELLY and a banana 😭😭 they better HURRY up. i’m getting really impatient. the f1 discord i’m in is freaking OUT and it’s so fun to watch

[steelycunt]

well my office coworker is a big rap fan but the most obscure stuff ever like his top artists have 40 monthly listeners on spotify and half of them sing in languages he does not know... like it's good generally but damn. he puts on music and i just know he single handedly is responsible for all the money these artists get from their music this is crazy. mad respect 2 him. also listen to all the songs i mentioned there i think they're all very very good... anyway how are u ridi how's life...

ahh okay so thats pretty cool ill give him that...i thought he was going to be one of those people who are like umm i just dont really like music. which is terrifying to me. i can understand liking any genre even if its not my thing but not liking any music at all..well that scares me..

[fearandhatred]

hey dear, just seen ur recent abt that uni grade and from a third year who had a Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad first year in college grades-wise, i hope i can affirm that the world doesn’t end with a poor letter grade. uni is fucking hard. you’re capable and complete and i have all the faith in you. steady on!!!

hi anon thank u 🥺 tbh it's not the literal F grade that bothers me because i kinda knew i would fail and it's for a minor i was forced to take lmaooo. it's the B+s i got for my major 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ but yeah i do need to keep in mind that it doesn't actually matter that much

[tbaluver]

caught wet handed!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: they caught you touching yourself requested by: @xylanhio, @batatahahaha, + 3 others anons ( mssged them priv ! ) tags: will be listed below each name special thank you to my beta readers mwah mwah: @ilovemitsuya, @justwinginglife ₊˚⊹ ᰔ a/n: hihi my luvs! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i apologize that this took so long to write i hope you all enjoy reading and i added an extra bonus at the end for each one hehe! thank you for your patience and lmk what you think mwah! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

tags: female masturbation ( humping his pillow ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out

You had a rough day, frustration was just an understatement. Your teammates were uncooperative, your boss insufferable, the food at home was the last thing you wanted, and to top it all off, Xavier wouldn’t be home until later.

Dragging yourself to your shared bedroom, you slip into more comfortable clothes before collapsing into bed with a huff. You roll over to look at the empty spot beside you where he usually sleeps, pulling his pillow closer and hugging it for comfort. You breathe in the scent of your lover, the familiar smell instantly comforting you. You nuzzle your head deeper into his pillow, wishing it were him instead. 

Checking your phone for any updates on when he’ll be back home and if he could grab food on the way. You lower the pillow slightly to have a better view of your phone, pressing the pillow between your thighs and mindlessly rocking your hips. The more you rock your hips, the more it feels good and the more heat travels down to your core.

Your cunt throbs desperately for more friction as you rub yourself against the plush of his pillow, slipping your fingers down to your heat to tease yourself. The arousal pooling in your panties remind you of the night you both went round after round, minutes turning to hours of getting stuffed with his hot, creamy cum. That night leaving you both sticky and wet. You moan breathlessly riding his pillow to match the pace from your memory making the bed shake from how hard you rub against it.

It was no doubt his pillow was nowhere near what he’s given you. He would be so deep inside you, your wetness perfectly coating his entire thick base of his cock. 

You ran your fingers across your hardened nipples as you imagine Xavier sucking and placing sloppy wet kisses against the back of your neck, huffing out shallow breaths that send chills down your spine. He was so greedy that night for finding deeper angles in you, his cock exploring every part of your pussy with ease. His hands grip tightly on your hips as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly, chasing his orgasm with you again.

Your hips glide effortlessly against his pillow, fast and faster until you feel the grip on his pillow slip away from your grasp. A soft whine escapes your lips, frustrated from the emptiness in between your legs. You flutter your eyes open to find Xavier standing beside you, staring down at his pillow, specifically the wet patch from your arousal. “Don’t you think this is unfair?” 

Immediately heat floods your cheeks as you quickly avert your gaze and scoot back to your side of the bed. Before you can explain, he climbs up in front of you, his hands grasping your legs, drawing you closer. “You should use me instead.” His eyes burn with hunger as he glares into you.

Bonus For Xavier:

The moment he walked into your shared bedroom, it took him a second to realize what was happening in front of him. Your eyes close shut while he listens to the pretty sounds that slip past your lips, your hips moving effortlessly against the pillow- his pillow. He loves to hear you and see you come undone but not to his pillow. With quick strides, he rips the pillow out of your arms, thinking of burning all of his pillows or maybe just keeping this pillow with the wet patch of your arousal on it.

Xavier is always greedy and selfish when it comes to you. He wants you all to himself and he only wants to give you pleasure, nothing else. The moment he tugs your panties down and sees the mess between your legs, he immediately burries his head in, making sure no more drops are wasted. He loves to be between your legs, kneading your thighs while his warm tongue eases all your tension away. His pretty blue eyes looking up at you occasionally to take note of your reaction, his long eyelashes fluttering as he sucked on your clit.

You don’t remember how many rounds he’s gone for but your body felt mushy and boneless, completely forgetting about your worries and frustrations that happened today. He made such lewd noises as he sucked and slurped your cum again and again into his mouth as if it were water, his tongue devoted to every single drop you’ve given him. The noises you made only spurred him on, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he held you down.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hands digging into the sheets of the bed while your back arched. He groans into your cunt, the sound sending vibrations deep inside your weeping cunt as you cream all over his face again. He holds your trembling body tightly, making sure to not waste all the juices gush out of you. “One more time?” 

Zayne:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), fem! reader receiving fingering

Recently Zayne’s schedule has become unpredictable lately. His pager would buzz at the most inconvenient times, during your meals or when he was just about to settle in next to you for bed. You could see the apologetic look on his face when the call came in and you knew without a doubt that he had to leave. 

As the chief surgeon, his role at the hospital was always crucial and you understood the weight of his responsibility. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before trailing down to meet your lips. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before he pulls away, heading back to the hospital again.

No matter how busy his days would be, he always found a moment to reach out to you. Whether it was a quick message before his surgery or a brief text after his meetings. He doesn’t let you feel completely alone.

☃︎:‘Make sure you’re taking breaks.’

☃︎:‘Eat well and drink plenty of water’

☃︎:‘Don’t stay up too late waiting for me again. It’s important to get rest.’

☃︎:‘Have a goodnight. Sleep well.’

You could hear his voice reach out to you across your screen but it wasn’t the same. No amount of text or calls could replace the warmth of his presence. You missed him deeply and it was hard to ignore the empty space beside you at night. Life has felt frustrating lately, with work and everything else outside of it added more pressure while his absence lingers in the air. You craved some kind of relief.

You roll over to his side of his bed, his scent still lingering on his pillows. You can imagine him there, half-lidded eyes watching your head fly back as you bounce on his cock. Your hands rest on his defined abs to keep you steady while his large hands rest on your hips, occasionally slipping down to squeeze the plush of your ass.  

Heat travels down between your legs the more you think of him. His lips on your clit, sucking so harshly that it makes filthy noises echo in the room. Zayne hasn’t messaged you yet, so you assumed he was busy in another meeting and you couldn’t ignore the heat building up between your legs, so you decided to take care of yourself for now.

You laid back against his pillows with your legs spread wide, slowly sliding your finger up your folds before sliding it in while the other pinches your hardened nipples, something Zayne would do. Adding another finger in, you feel the slow stretch and start a steady pace.

Your fingers were much smaller compared to what Zayne offers you. He’s reached places that you didn’t even know were possible and only he can reach. Two of your fingers were nowhere near to what you want but you’ll manage to make it work for the night

You thrust your fingers in and out of you, sliding them as deep as you could. Soft noises escape you as your fingers rocked in and out of your weeping cunt, sending lustful waves throughout your whole body.

You were so consumed by your own euphoria, the relief after days of frustration, that you didn’t even notice Zayne opening the door to your shared bedroom. He was at a loss of words with what he saw play out right in front of him. Your eyes were clenched shut as you focused on trying to reach your high that you didn’t even notice his presence. His eyes were so fixated on your body that he couldn’t look away, the heat traveling down to his cock. He watches the way your fingers pick up the pace, the sound of your fingers dipping in and out of you while you softly moan his name against his pillow. He can feel his erection straining against his trousers.

You whimper out his name, your back arching, meaning you were close. He watches you pull out, your warm slick arousal drip down your fingers while your eyes flutter open, finally realizing he was there the entire time.

You yelp, your face flushing with embarrassment as you scramble to pull the blankets around yourself. “Z-Zayne?!” Your eyes trail down to see the visible erection that begged to be free.

He shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he steps closer and closer while loosening his tie. “You don’t need to cover yourself. I’ve seen you countless times.” He hovers over you, his voice low. “It seems you’re taking longer finishing by yourself. Have you been having issues while I was away?" He lowers himself to meet your height, his breath fanning against your lips before he captures them with his own. "I can help fix that for you if you'd like.”

Seems like you’re not the only one who’s been missing some company.  

Bonus For Zayne:

His large hand cradles your cheek as he kisses you hungrily, wanting more of your soft lips on his while his fingers work wonders on your other lips. “I’ve missed you,” He whispers breathlessly, quickly chasing your lips again as if he lets you go for a second, you might disappear completely from his grasp. 

You pull away gasping, his fingers sliding across your folds, stroking them at a painfully slow pace to get you even more wet. You wanted to reply, tell him that you’ve missed him too but he was quick to close the gap between both your mouths. He wants to take his time with you, knowing that currently it’s rare for both of you to have that but he doesn’t want to keep both in agony any longer.

His fingertips drag over the opening of your cunt, arousal seeping out of you like honey. Every movement he makes is methodical, taking note of every reaction you make. "You're so wet.." He groans, coating his fingers with your arousal. The glide of his fingertips over your clit before slipping inside feeds the pleasure you craved in your gut. His other fingers wrap around your nipples, adding more pleasure straight to your core. The way your lips parted, whines turning into whimpers lets him know you feel good.

It didn’t take long for you to melt against him as he murmured sweet praises of you’re doing so well for him. His fingers thrust in and out of you, slipping a second one in when you’re ready and you already feel so full. Your fingers that tried to match his girth and length weren’t able to touch spots he can. His eyes averting occasionally to watch the way your face contorts from the pleasure before trailing down to watch your breasts slightly jiggle from the movement.

His digits are knuckle deep inside of you, prodding at the sweet spot within you as they thrust in and out of your velvety walls. Obscene squelches of your soaking cunt as he angles his wrist and curls his fingers. It’s not long until your walls are clamping down on his fingers, pleasure flowing through your body and veins. Your hands that rest on his chest run up to his shoulders, holding onto him tightly, trembling from the sensitivity.

You ride out your high, his fingers slowing down as his free hand caresses and knead your hips.

He presses soft, lingering kisses to the top of your head, the silence in the room only broken by your shared breaths. Neither of you need to say a word to feel the weight of how much you’ve missed each other.

Rafayel:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out with a mix of fingering

You were exhausted. After a long day, you finally got to come home late as your boss had let you leave early once your mission was complete, letting the rest of the team pack it up. Rafayel wasn’t home, he was off at some art event Thomas had dragged him too. All day long, he had been glued to his phone, sending you messages about how boring the event was without you and how he wished you were there so you two could run away together. He would sneak off by himself but running away alone just wasn’t the same. As you stared at your phone, your eyelids grew heavier. You barely had a chance to let him know you were home early before you drifted off into deep sleep.

Meanwhile

He felt so hot, his head spinning. He had to excuse himself from the guest, ignoring what Thomas had to say as he entered the bathroom. The burning heat surged through his body and traveled through his lower half. It was getting unbearable. His head was throbbing, he needed to get away and go home. He needed- no, wanted you. His mind and body called out for you.

-

You shifted slightly in your shared bed, your eyebrows furrowing as your dreams started to unfold, unaware that arousal seeps through your panties. The familiar bedroom around you felt hazy but Rafayel on top of you was clear as ever. You could feel spit drip down your chin as you both pull away from the messy and sloppy kiss, the tip of his cock sliding against your throbbing clit made you gasp. 

Soft whimpers escape his lips as he listens to all the sweet delicious sounds you make for him, his large hands grip your thighs as he presses his cock into your cunt, watching how you swallow him up so easily.

He lowers himself, littering kisses to your chest as you wrap your legs around him. His balls smack against the curve of your ass with every powerful thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Just as you were about to meet your high, you woke up abruptly, feeling the wet patch in between your legs.

You sigh, trailing your fingers down, making small circles around your clit before slowly inserting them in easily from how wet you are. Your fingers slid in and out of you, your mind wandering between how the dream would finish or the times Rafayel has touched you.

You’d imagine how he’d insert himself deeper and deeper into you, pulling out just a little, then dipping further back in while rubbing circles around your clit. How his hair tickles your skin while his tongue works circles around your perky buds before swirling his tongue around the base of mounds of flesh.

You ran your fingers across your perky nipples while your other hand slid in and out of your wet walls. Soft noises and moans of his name escape your lips, the relief you anticipated for picking up.

Until the door abruptly opening startles you from reaching that, your fingers slipping out of your wet hole, making you close your legs shut.

“You...” Rafayel pants, his eyes looking at you hungrily. It was as if he was starving and you were his only prey. “Dirty girl..” He mutters under his breath, inching closer and closer towards you with some sway in his walk as if your body was luring him in. He crawls onto the bed you, the bed shifting it's weight as his body pins you beneath him. "Wouldn't it be much..." He groans, spreading your legs to look at the mess between your thighs. "better if it were me instead?"

Bonus For Rafayel:

He wonders if you could feel the way his heart pounded when he saw you in front of him, legs spread open as you played with your wet cunt. You were calling out to him and he wonders if you did it on purpose or did it to tease him. He can’t seem to think straight, his entire body felt hot with need and he needed you badly.

Rafayel is face deep into your pussy, lapping up the juices while his thumb lightly brushes your clit. His other hand settles around your thigh, kneading the flesh deeply as if he were trying to feel more of you all at once. You were too lost in the pleasure, not noticing the way he ruts against the mattress. He wants more of you but he can’t seem to leave between your legs, lapping up all the drops that you give him as if your arousal was the water he needed to breathe.

“yeah? like that?” he groans softly against your cunt when your hands grab a fistful of his hair, the familiar heat in the pit of your stomach building up. He hums, the sound adding more stimulation to your core. He knows you like that. The way he glanced up at you, studying the way your breasts rose and fell, your lips parted let him know you were absolutely enjoying it.

He continues adding his fingers into the mix, switching between his tongue. You rock your hips back and forth against his mouth, panting his name again and again, breathy moans until your orgasm washes over you.  You grind your high out, bruises slowly forming on your thighs from his tight grip. Your juices and spit coat his lips and drip down to his chin. However he was not finished with you yet, his eyes still clouded with hunger and need. 

Sylus:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader getting eaten out

You laid on your shared bed, legs spread with your fingers curling inside of your tight cunt, your thighs rubbing desperately. After a long time apart due to both of your busy schedules, you finally had the chance to be together but just as you were about to make up for lost time, an emergency on his end pulled him away the next morning. Rushed wet kisses and lingering touches on your soft bare skin as if he was leaving for a long time. He held you for a brief moment, taking one last good look and stealing one last kiss before he had to leave.

You kept his shirt from the night before on, afraid his scent might disappear from you completely. The sleeves of his shirt occasionally slipping down your shoulders as you move your fingers rhythmically in and out of your slick folds.

You thought about what happened last night, soft breathing fanning against each other's lips while his large hands held onto your hips tightly as he thrusts into you at a slow pace, making sure you feel every inch and vein of his cock.  Your name leaves his lips once, twice, again and again while constantly hitting your sweet spot. Your breasts bounced as his thrusts started to hit harder, shaking the entire bed. Just as you were about to recall how you met with pure ecstasy, a call interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes fluttered open, revealing none other than Sylus’s name on your screen.

‘Sweetie I hope I didn’t wake you. I know you must be tired from last night's events.’ You can hear his smile through the phone, your movements slowing. ‘I bought Mephisto a new hat on my way back- I think you would find it cute.’

You hum in response, your voice hoarse. ‘Hurry home Sy..”

He chuckles on the other end, ‘I’m almost there. I can’t wait to finally spend some time with you.’ But your mind was so dazed, your core aching for more after hearing him, his words barely registered as you set the phone aside.

You sigh, starting over the pace you set again, completely unaware that neither you or Sylus had ended the call. Two fingers rub circles on your clit while the other hand pinches your exposed nipple that was peeking out from his button up. Soft moans of his name fall from your lips as your fingers deliciously rub against your clit.

Shamelessly, he doesn’t end the call. Instead, he rushes back home, muting his side to avoid disturbing your relief, even though you probably couldn’t hear him from your series of lewd noises on your end.

You match the pace of your imagination of what Sylus would do, his name desperately spilling from your lips.

His pace would build up faster and faster, you imagined, feeling yourself inch closer to your peak- until you suddenly hear his actual voice, clearing his throat. Your eyes snap open, locking with his crimson gaze. “Enjoying yourself?” He leaned against the doorframe, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he scans your entire body. His eyes trail lower, amused at the mess between your legs, nothing on but his shirt.

“S-Sylus?” He can’t get enough of you hearing you say his name, how he craves to hear it over and over again.

He nods, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt but..” He stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, his body hovering over in between yours. “won’t you let me have a taste?”

Bonus For Sylus:

Your arousal settles in quick the moment he enters you with his tongue, earning a gasp from you. “Like this princess?” He hums into you, the vibrations sending pleasure down to your core. He holds you close to his face, buried face deep inside you, encouraging you to make a mess on him- maybe even suffocate him if you want. Your back arches with every drag of his tongue along your wet folds as he loudly slurps up your slick. 

The pink wet muscle tip laps up your wetness eagerly, filling you up while stroking the sensitive bud delicately with his thumb. It didn’t take long for his chin to be dripping quickly. He groans softly into your heat when he dives in, feeling your walls twitch against his fat tongue. 

His tongue explores every centimeter of your gummy walls before speeding up. His dark heavy gaze filled with lust flicker up at you, watching you in awe. Your stomach clenched, your legs trembling under him.  Your legs are trembling as his tongue works against you mercilessly. Your thighs shake as your juices coat his face. 

He licks his lips, making sure no remains of your sweet substance goes to waste before diving right back between your legs to lick off the juices off your skin and entrance, earning a yelp from you. He places gentle kisses over the marks he left on your thighs from his tight grip, while his other hand traces soothing circles on the other.

Caleb:

tags: female masturbation ( fingering ), mentions of p in v, fem! reader recieving fingering from his metal arm

Your eyes flutter open slowly, Caleb’s scent wrapping around you, yet he is nowhere near you. The shirt he wore last night oversized on you while the lingering comforting scent surrounds you as you roll to his side of the bed. It was too early- it was the afternoon, to be up right now. You were still exhausted from last night, your mind dazed to worry where Caleb disappeared too.

You close your eyes, your mind drifting back to the night before, your fingers lightly tracing the marks he left on you.

How did it go again? Your fingers trace the marks he left on you, attempting to copy the movements he made last night.

Ragged breaths fan over each other's lips after a heated kiss, his erection pressing between your thighs. Caleb whimpers, running his tongue down to the side of your neck, leaving a wet trail down to your breasts. The top of his tongue circles around your hard nipples, letting one go with a wet pop! before moving to the other one. His cool, metallic hand traces delicate patterns along your inner thigh, sending chills up to your core as he pushes your legs further apart. He continues to tease you by slowly sliding his hand up higher and higher, tugging the hem of your waistband.

“Caleb please..” You whine, feeling his smirk against your skin. Without any remarks this time, he dips his fingers in slowly, coating them with your arousal. Slowly he slips a finger in with ease, feeling the way your walls clench before adding another one. He picks up the pace, savouring the sounds of your moans for him. You were already getting off just by his fingers alone, he can’t imagine how much of a mess you’ll be on his cock.

“Caleb..” Soft moans of his name slip past your lips as you curl your fingers inside of your tight cunt, your thighs rubbing together desperately to match up the friction from last night. Your fingers were no match compared to his cock and hands. They were much smaller and less girthier than what he has given you.

The way you were absolutely drooling on his pillows, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull whenever you tried to fill yourself up from his cock. You couldn’t see it, but he was enjoying it. Your eyes were completely shut, missing out on the way he was completely enjoying your disheveled state. The way you held onto him so tightly so you two wouldn't disconnect. He starts with a few slow strokes, the bulge in your belly could've made him finish in you immediately but not yet. He needs more of you, he needs to hear more of how good he makes you feel.

You clenched your eyes shut, concentrating on the pleasure from last night, making sure the rhythm matches the pace in your head. Your moans and whimpers grow louder after each few trusts as Caleb listens quietly by the doorframe. You clench and spasm around your fingers buried inside of you, pleasure washing over you.

Pulling your fingers out, the warmth of your slick clings to your fingers. As you flutter your eyes open, you’re met with Caleb standing in front of you, his chiseled chest and his grey sweatpants that hung dangerously loose on his waist. His gaze locking onto the mess you made between your thighs, his erection is clearly visible from the thin material.

He approaches you slowly, the mischievous smile still playing on his lips as he sets the plate of brunch he prepared for you earlier on the nightstand. He climbs onto the bed, pinning you beneath him. “Now that I’m here..I don’t think you need these anymore.” With his free hand he grabs the your hand coated with your arousal, inspecting it for a moment before licking it clean himself.

Bonus For Caleb:

Every day Caleb is grateful that the world advanced to the point where they finally built in the sensation of touch in his robotic arm, allowing him to finally remember how it feels to hold you and know what it’s like to feel you clench down on his metallic fingers.

“I can feel you..You’re so wet down here..” His eyes are half lidded, both of you panting breathily, his stiff cock twitches in his confinements of his sweatpants as he watches your mouth part as the cool metal fingers pump in and out of you. He imagines how it would feel so much better to have you clenching around on his cock instead but he is a patient man. His cock was aching to be coated with your weakness but he’s waited much longer.

You whimper, moaning out his name breathlessly while rolling your hips against his hand. Caleb watches your trembling form as he finds that sweet spot only he can reach inside you. Each thrust of his cold fingers pushes you further into a state of pure ecstasy. He sped up the pace, targeting your sweet spot over and over again until your body washes over with absolute pleasure. He helps you ride out your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers from your throbbing cunt. He raises his metal arm, his fingers still warm from your core, licking it out of satisfaction.

if you haven't already read it, here's the other version where you caught them! caught white handed!

my other works: masterlist pg. 1 , p.2