#but then winter hits and i Remember how good it is when it's Cold out

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Six

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 5769 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Feelings are acknowledged. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. We finally have the sexy times! Dry humping, oral, unprotected P in V.

a/n: work is going to be insane this week so posting this earlier than planned. hope you enjoy the hell out of it!

Series Masterlist

Chest heaving, Dave slowed to a walk along the frigid shoreline, his sneakers crunching the frozen sand. The steady roar of waves crashing ashore, the sharp bite of winter air in his lungs, none of it was enough to clear his mind. Five miles at an eight-minute pace – usually enough to drown out the noise in his head – had done nothing to shake you from his thoughts.

He kissed his stepdaughter. Slept with his stepdaughter…

Not in the biblical sense, but literally. Last night, with you curled up in his arms, was the best fucking sleep he’d had in years, decades even. You’d fallen asleep against his chest, breathing even and steady, and your body fitting against his like a puzzle piece he didn’t know was missing.

Dave barely remembered slipping into your bed. What started as a conversation about everything you’d been holding in – your frustrations, your doubts – had ended with his arms around you, his lips pressed to your temple as you drifted off. He hadn’t thought about Lisa once.

Why would he when he had you in his arms?

The pull to stay in bed with you that morning was almost impossible to resist. Even as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtained windows high up the wall, bathing you in the softest, ethereal glow, he hesitated to leave. You looked so peaceful, lips curved into the faintest smile, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dreamed. It tugged at his hardened heart, leaving him almost afraid to shatter the spell.

Dave kissed your forehead tenderly before finally slipping out of the room, his bare feet soundless on the carpet. He knew if he didn’t leave then, he never would at all.

And now, here he was, running himself ragged in the biting cold, trying to convince himself this wasn’t insane. That he could somehow compartmentalize this – keep the lines clean and unblurred. He was good at that, compartmentalizing.

It had been a survival skill, his ticket through years of bloody assignments and moral ambiguity. That skill alone kept his marriage to Carol stable and his family safe with plausible deniability of his darker deeds.

But this? Starting something with his stepdaughter, of all people? This was uncharted territory, even for him.

The vibration of his phone pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. Fishing it out of his pocket, he frowned at the screen. Roger.

Roger: How did your meeting with Anna go?

Might as well get this over with, Dave thought, hitting the call button instead of texting back.

Roger answered on the first ring, his voice oily with satisfaction. “Anna’s taken with you, York. Insisted on moving the meeting to tomorrow instead of next week. You must have made quite the impression.”

Dave exhaled slowly, willing his irritation to stay buried as he ignored Roger’s remarks. “Fine.”

“I’ll book a hotel for you,” Roger added cheekily. “Give you a chance to… cement her trust after the meeting.”

Over his dead fucking body, Dave thought. Jaw tightening, he responded in an icy tone, “I prefer the café if you don’t mind.”

Roger’s chuckle echoed down the line, grating his ears. “Suit yourself, York. Shame to waste this opportunity. Women like her don’t grow on trees.”

This conversation was already his blood pressure to rise. “I’m a married man, Roger, or did you forget that fact?”

“We’re all married men, York. What the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s a motto to live by,” the other man replied.

The truth of that statement was not wasted on Dave as his thoughts immediately turned back to you. Hitting the end call button without saying another word, the conversation ended as abruptly as it began. Dave clenched his phone in one hand, the waves crashing endlessly behind him matching the sudden building headache.

By the time he reached home, the kitchen buzzed with life. The smell of pancakes and syrup mixed with the aroma of coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter – your laughter – rising above the exuberant chatter of his daughters.

Dave’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile, but it faltered when his gaze shifted to his wife.

Lisa sat at the island, nursing a steaming cup of coffee in an oversized mug, her expression sharp enough to cut glass as she glowered at the scene before her.

The girls were doubled over in giggles as you balanced a piece of pancake on your fork like a morsel from the finest meal. “I swear, I could eat pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!” you declared with infectious enthusiasm.

Dave leaned against the doorway, taking it all in. The warmth of the scene, the way his daughters looked at you like you hung the moon, giggling maniacally – they hadn’t done that with anyone since Carol passed – and the way you smiled as though nothing bad could ever touch you. It was a stark contrast to the cold knot in his stomach from everything pressing down on him.

Lisa’s eyes flicked to him, her glare shifting from you to him in a blink. “Nice of you to join us,” she muttered with a razor-sharp tone.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he straightened. “Went for a run,” he said simply, walking past his wife to grab a glass of water.

“I can see that,” she shot back. “How very… productive of you, especially after a night out with the boys. You must’ve had fun. You didn’t come home last night.”

Dave didn’t take the bait, his focus was on draining the glass of water before refilling it. He grabbed a pancake from your plate with a wink as he strolled from the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to shower.”

It was going to be a long fucking day.

You were just clearing the table from breakfast when Dave returned dressed in dark jeans and a light blue sweater, his socked feet silent on the wood flooring as he entered the kitchen.

You noticed him immediately as if sensing him before hearing or seeing him. His soulful eyes flickered toward you with something unspoken shining in them. It wasn’t just the casual acknowledgment of your presence. It was deeper than that. A thread of awareness that tightened whenever you were near each other. You knew because you felt it, too.

Grateful that your mom left to go shopping and the girls played with Ranger in the living room, you enjoyed the private moment with Dave. You didn’t have the chance to talk to him about last night yet. You wanted, needed to, but suddenly the nerves kicked in.

“Have a good run?” you asked keeping your voice light and easy, though your hands stilled where they were piling dirty dishes next to the sink.

“Yeah,” Dave replied, his tone much softer than it had been with your mother earlier. “Beach is damn cold, though.”

You hummed, biting your lip as you glanced at the girls – they were glued to the TV as another Disney movie played – before stepping sideways to stand closer to Dave than necessary. You needed to feel his heat, feel him. The proximity made your pulse quicken, a rush of heat blooming in your chest and traveling upwards toward your neck and face.

“Did you want coffee?” you questioned, a breath above a whisper, tilting your head as you reached for the nearly empty pot. “I saved the last bit for you.”

Dave turned to you, eyes like raw umber searching yours before shaking his head, his damp hair flopping over his forehead with the motion. One large hand reached up to sweep his fingers through the locks, slicking it back into place. “I’m good, thanks.”

For a moment, it felt like the kitchen faded around you.

Neither of you moved, the air between you charged with something you both felt but hadn’t dared name yet. Your fingers brushed his as you moved the coffee pot, the brief contact enough to send a shiver down your spine while dumping the remaining contents down the drain.

Without uttering a sound, Dave helped you rinse and load the soiled dishes and flatware into the dishwasher. As the last plate was placed in the bottom rack, you turned to grab a dish towel, only to find Dave standing closer than before. His broad frame filled the small space between you and the counter, his proximity sending a flicker of electricity through the air.

“Thanks for helping,” you said, voice soft yet filled with nerves. Your limbs were practically trembling with the electricity arcing between you and him.

Dave’s lips quirked into a small, almost hesitant smile. “Didn’t seem fair to leave you with all the cleanup after you did all the cooking.”

Folding the dish towel over the edge of the sink, you avoided his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I’m not used to it,” you replied lightly.

“Doesn’t mean you should be.”

When you looked up, his eyes were on you – dark and steady, filled with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

“Dave…” you started but lost your words as he stepped ever closer.

His hand reached out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before his knuckles brushed your cheek. Your breath hitched, the skin-on-skin contact causing the world to tilt on its axis. His hand shifted, the pad of his thumb running along your jawline in a gentle, grounding touch.

The last of your resolve, and nerves, wavered under his mesmerizing gaze, the nearness of him making it nigh impossible to think clearly. “What are we doing?” you asked, voice trembling along with the rest of your body.

Dave’s lips curved into the faintest smile, yet his eyes remained steely. “Something we probably shouldn’t,” he admitted, his voice a deep rasp barely louder than a rumbling whisper. “But I don’t know how to – don’t want to – stop.”

Neither did you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was equal parts hesitant and fervent. The dam finally broke after months of increasing tension and building feelings.

His hands cupped your face, grounding you as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing lightly against yours and his broad form blocking any view of what you were doing from the girls. You melted into him, your hands roaming the solid warmth of his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his sweater.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. But, damn, was it intense. It was deliberate as if Dave wanted to memorize every detail of the way your lips moved against his, the faint hitch in your breath, the way your fingers trembled slightly as they fisted in his sweater. He moved you backward along the counter into the hallway until you both stood in front of the door to the basement, never breaking the dizzying kiss.

He tasted of mint and something so uniquely him when you licked into his mouth. The flavor had you melting against his body.

When Dave finally pulled back, you followed, lips eager to continue. He rested his forehead against yours, staring into each other’s eyes with a level of intimacy you never experienced before. Both of you were breathing heavily, the charged silence between you broken only by the hum of the dishwasher and the girls’ laughter in the background.

“This is crazy,” you murmured, though you made zero effort to step away.

“It is,” Dave agreed, his solemn voice rough but steady. “But it doesn’t change how I feel. How I can see you feel about me.”

Heart thundering in your chest, his words sinking in with a weight you weren’t sure you were ready to carry… yet you couldn’t, wouldn’t disagree.

“What do we do now?” you asked with a barely audible voice, dazed eyes darting back and forth between his own.

Shifting you slightly to the side, he opened the basement door and turned his head toward the living room. “Girls! We are going to do some work in my office. Stay here and finish the movie, we’ll be back up in a bit.”

“Okay Daddy!” Alice called out before quickly laughing at something that happened onscreen.

You stared at him in wide-eyed shock. What was happening?

“Come on,” he said, chuckling softly at your expression before taking your hand to lead you down the stairs.

He wanted to take you to your bed instead of his office as he told the girls, but Dave knew you had no guarantee of the time or privacy needed for what he wanted to do to you, for what you deserved for your first time together. So, he bypassed your bedroom with nary a glance, leading you into his office.

His dark eyes searched yours, pupils growing larger by the second as he closed the door behind him, turning the lock with a subtle ‘click’.

“So, this is the mysterious, private office of David York,” you snarked, attempting to downplay your nerves as you glanced around the room.

A large mahogany desk occupied one wall upon which two large monitors and a laptop sat. A worn leather loveseat backed up to another wall. A large gun locker, safe, and file cabinet were placed along the wall opposite the door. There were no windows and just one exit.

“I wondered what you were hiding in here.”

Dave watched as your fingers ran along the metal of the gun locker. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere safe to keep records and weapons without nosy little fingers touching things they shouldn’t.”

Your hand snapped back as if stung and he chuckled. You wanted to see the arsenal in that cabinet, imagining weapons of all types, but you didn’t pry. Not this time. You sighed, wondering what came next. Picking up on your hesitancy, Dave took your hands in his.

“I need you to know something.”

You swallowed thickly, curious and hopeful yet fearing what he was about to tell you, and merely nodded for him to continue.

“I didn’t plan this,” he began, quiet but firm. “I didn’t plan to feel this way about you. But I do and I don’t want to stop.”

Your heart raced as his words sank in. Opening your mouth to respond, Dave continued before you could utter a word.

“This thing between us – it’s not going to be easy. You know that, right?” Again, you nodded, and he added, “There are things… I haven’t always been a good man and there are things I can’t, won’t tell you. If you don’t want this or decide at any point that you don’t want to continue, you’ll have to be the one to end it, understand? I won’t be able to.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. The world narrowed to just the two of you, alone in his basement office, and everything else – the doubts, fears, complications, his marriage to your mother, all of it – faded into the ether. Something a lot like that four-letter word you knew it was too early to acknowledge or give voice to fluttered in your tummy like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“I won’t be able to, either,” you admitted breathlessly, the admission causing an almost feral look to cross Dave’s face before he pounced.

With quick, desperate movements, his hands slithered around your wide hips, pulling you with him as he fell backward to sit on the leather loveseat. Strong hands guided you to straddle his lap, thighs snug against him as the hardness of him pressed against the crux of you. The feeling was divine.

“I wish we had time for more than this,” Dave murmured against your lips as he kissed you soundly. “But with the girls upstairs and your mom due home at any time, we can’t risk it. Not if I want to take my time with you.”

It was the truth, and you knew it. However, it didn’t stop the wave of disappointment from washing over you. Fighting to keep it from showing on your face, you ducked your head into Dave’s neck where you pressed open-mouth kisses against his salty skin.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make each other feel good, Firecracker,” he insisted, catching on to your disappointment. “We’ll just have to keep our clothes on and be quick about it, is all.” His fingers digging into your hips, Dave ground you down against his cock, the jeans doing little to hide just how hard he was, how hard you made him.

The fullness of him pressed against you just right, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. “Ahhhh, Dave,” the sound slipped from your lips like music to Dave’s ears.

“Like that?” he purred in your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Making me feel like a fucking teenager again, dry humping like this. Use me, Firecracker. Make yourself feel good.”

Dave’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to caress your breasts as you moved your hips against him. Muted mewls and moans filled the air in the room as you ground yourself against him, the layers of clothing doing little to dampen the pleasure as your clit rubbed along the seam of his jeans and the hardness beneath it.

It didn’t take long for you to approach the edge with Dave’s fingers plucking and twisting your nipples, his mouth alternating between nipping at your neck and licking into your mouth, the hard press of him rubbing against you deliciously.

“Does that feel good?” he questioned, his hands moving to grip your ass after one more sharp tug at your nipples. “Are you going to come for me? You’re so wet I can feel you through all these layers between us.”

Dave was right, you were drenched and only getting wetter as your orgasm approached at breakneck speed.

“Come on, my little Firecracker. Come all over me. Make me go upstairs with a visible wet spot on my jeans and have to change.”

The thought of him walking past your mom with the essence of you staining the front of his pants sent you plummeting over the edge, coming with strangled moans as you fought to keep quiet lest the girls hear something.

“That’s it,” Dave encouraged, his hands on your ass guiding you to move against him faster, harder. He gazed at you with blown pupils. “You’re so beautiful when you come for me. I love the feel of your juicy ass in my hands as you move on top of me.”

“Dave!” you cried breathlessly against his mouth as his hips jolted upward and you felt the hard pulses of his cock beneath you as he came in his pants with a growl.

“You just made me come in my fucking pants, you vixen,” he said once you both caught your breath again. His voice held more teasing than bite and you chortled giddily.

“That’s fucking hot,” you replied, sitting back on his thighs to get a glimpse of the mess you made together.

“Think so?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” you admitted emphatically. “No one’s ever done that for me, so it’s extra special.”

“I’m glad I could be of service then,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like having firsts with you.”

The sudden slamming of the front door followed by the clacking of heels on the wood flooring sounded above you. The two of you froze, staring wide-eyed at each other.

“Shit.” The bubble burst with the knowledge that your mom arrived home and you slid from Dave’s lap. “You should probably get upstairs before she comes down here looking for you.”

“Yeah,” Dave sighed, staring at the mess staining his lap before standing. He tugged his sweater down fruitlessly, the material too short to cover much. Giving up, he flashed you a bashful smile. “Not sure how I’m going to explain this if she sees me.”

You shrugged. “Just tell her to mind her own damn business,” you retorted, spinning on your heels to go take a shower.

Dave stood watching you longingly for a moment before deciding to make a run for it. He could hear Lisa talking to the girls, the sharp pitch of her voice carrying down to the basement, and knew he could sneak out to the garage and then into the laundry room to change really quick.

The rest of the day was a bit awkward, neither you nor Dave was sure how to act around one another in front of your mom and the girls, trying your best to act as you normally would. Everything felt exaggerated after your moments together that morning. So, you focused mostly on the girls and Ranger, playing fetch and chasing each other around in the chilly backyard while Dave stayed inside with your mom, talking about work, holiday preparations, and other trivial matters.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from gazing at you during lulls in the conversation, longing to be out there with you and his girls, but he didn’t want to push his luck with Lisa. She was up his ass enough already; he didn’t want to give her more reason to nag him.

The next day, Dave entered the café, careful eyes scanning the room until he spotted Roger and Anna seated at a corner table, looking cozier than business associates normally do. Roger’s grin was as smug as ever, but Anna’s expression was sharp, her green eyes assessing Dave as he approached.

“You’re late,” she said smoothly, her tone edging more toward playful than accusatory. “It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

Dave blithely ignored her comment, sliding into the seat across from her. “Traffic,” he replied curtly, his tone betraying no emotion.

Roger leaned back in his chair, swirling the coffee in his cup. “You’re lucky Anna was so insistent about moving this meeting up. There’s been movement.”

Dave’s jaw tightened, yet his expression remained neutral. Movement was good, but he mustn’t let his eagerness to bring this op to a close show. He had to play this carefully to maintain his cover. “What’s the latest?”

Anna leaned forward, her red-painted nails tapping against the table as they inched closer and closer to where Dave’s forearm rested. “We’ve made progress. My counterparts have vetted you and like what they saw. The deal with our…” she glanced at Roger before continuing, “mutual friend is moving along nicely.”

“Mutual friend,” Dave repeated, his tone skeptical. “You mean the military asset you’ve been dangling like a carrot? The one you refuse to tell me anything about?”

Anna’s predatory smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Patience, handsome. All will be revealed in good time.”

Roger chuckled, clearly enjoying the building tension between his new friends. “She’s right, York. You don’t rush these things. Especially when you’re the new man on the team.”

Dave’s gaze flicked to Roger, barely contained irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He knew he was walking the knife’s edge, yet still he pushed. He needed to establish that he was not fucking around. “And what exactly are we waiting for? Another week of vague updates? For one of the agencies to catch onto what we’re doing?”

Anna’s green eyes glinted with amusement, but her tone turned icy. “Careful, Dave. Impatience can get you killed. Or worse, caught.”

The tension at the table turned palpable, but Roger cut through it with a lazy smile. “Relax, York. We’re all on the same team here, working towards the same goal. Isn’t that right, doll?”

She didn’t respond immediately, clearly unamused with Roger’s nickname, her gaze remaining locked on Dave. Finally, she leaned back, a devilish smile gracing her painted lips. “Of course. We all want the same thing.”

A chill ran down Dave’s spine, his mind racing with possibilities as he forced a tight smile. They – or at least Anna – were clearly holding something back, and he needed to figure out what it was. Fast.

As the conversation shifted to logistics for their next meeting, Anna checked her calendar as Roger rattled off dates and times, Dave’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, his focus remaining on the business at the table, even as growing unease oozed in his chest.

The meeting ended with Anna brushing her hand over Dave’s arm as they stood to leave. “Until next time, Handsome,” she purred, her gaze lingering on his before darting down with a satisfied smirk as if assessing his bulge. He wasn’t the least bit hard, but he was a shower, not a grower, and he knew it looked impressive. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but Roger ushered her away.

Dave waited until she and Roger were out of sight before pulling his phone from his pocket and heading for his SUV. The message sent blood rushing south as he raced home.

After the exhilarating time spent together in Dave’s office, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You were distracted all day Sunday while he was out – a work meeting that couldn’t be avoided, or so he told your mom. You took the girls and Ranger to the park for something to do, staring at your phone while they played.

You must have typed out six different messages, deleting each one before settling on a sexy photo you took of yourself in bed yesterday morning. You wanted to have something to commemorate the first night you and Dave spent together and a photo of you in a barely-there tank top, hardened nipples peeking through, bedhead, and a sleepy smile the morning after was the perfect way to do it. You couldn’t wait to see how Dave reacted to being sent such a pic.

The delay in his response made you regret sending it though. Chewing your nails down to the quick, your eyes darted between where the girls played and your phone, willing Dave to respond. Just when your nerves were at their peak, the message status changed to ‘read’, then dots appeared as he – finally – typed a response.

Dave: Don’t tease me, Firecracker

You: I’m not teasing I’m giving you a preview

Dave: Oh?

You: You know where to find me when you’re ready

Shoving your phone in your pocket with a satisfied smile, you called out to the girls and Ranger. It was time to go home.

Once the girls were home and settled, you slipped off to your room to pamper yourself. You took a long, relaxing bath with the lights off and a lavender-scented candle burning. You plucked and shaved all the necessary bits, exfoliated, and moisturized until your skin gleamed. Night settled over the house by the time you went back upstairs to heat leftovers for dinner.

Your mom went out with some friends, Dave informed you before putting the girls to bed leaving Ranger to watch over them, his eyes communicating what his words didn’t say. Tonight, he was yours.

You ate quickly, knowing you’d need the fuel, and cleaned up before heading down to your room to wait for Dave to join you. Part of you couldn’t believe what was about to happen. The other part of you dithered over your clothing.

You had on an oversized tee shirt and a robe, no bra or panties. Not exactly the sexiest attire for your first time with Dave, you thought.

If the goal was to get naked, you wondered how much clothing mattered.

There was an element of sophistication to Dave. Would he prefer you in some sexy negligee?

A sudden idea struck you and you darted up the stairs to the laundry room to grab one of Dave’s dress shirts before rushing back down to your room. You just finished buttoning the shirt where you could when Dave came down the stairs.

The startled yet appreciative look in those big brown eyes told you the shirt was the right choice.

“Fuck,” he breathed, stepping slowly into your bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him, just in case. “You look fucking gorgeous in my shirt.”

Neither of you could stand it anymore, the heat between you growing too overwhelming to fight or hold off. You crashed together in a clash of lips and teeth, tongues tangling as you licked into each other’s mouths like it was your last meal.

“Do you have any idea how often I’ve thought of you… of doing this with you?” Dave’s raspy voice rumbled against your neck as he peppered the sensitive skin with open-mouth kisses.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” you admitted breathlessly. “I, uh, even touched myself to the thoughts.”

A fire blazed in those dark eyes as he growled, “Tell me.”

Powerless against him, you did just that. Telling him about the very first time, how you knew your fingers would never compare to his, how you imagined he would touch you with equal parts softness and unbridled need, how you thought he would rip your orgasm from you with fierce, single-minded determination, how you would beg for it to never, ever end. But you didn’t mention anything about watching him in the hot tub. You weren’t sure why.

Dave’s mouth roamed your body as you spoke, tugging layers of clothing off both of you as he went. When you were both naked, soft heated skin pressed against slightly rougher heated skin, you added, “Another time, I used my bullet vibrator as I imagined going down on you. I came to the phantom feeling of the weight of your cock on my tongue, the pulsing of it as you came down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ, Firecracker,” he groaned, pressing his hips down more firmly against yours. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you teased, drawing a rumbling laugh from deep within Dave’s chest. “No, we cannot,” he agreed, slithering down the length of your body, large hands squeezing your wide hips and thick thighs as he went, delighted that he finally gets to touch you like this.

“Let me show you what I’ve thought about, my sexy Firecracker.” He looked up at you with a boyish grin, hair flopping down over his forehead when he settled with your thighs over his shoulders. “I need to know how you taste.”

Words failed you as Dave tipped his face down, dark eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe through your folds with the flat of his pink tongue. Holy fuck. You never saw anything so fucking sexy as this man staring at you from between your thighs while he feasted on your pussy.

Lifting his head ever so slightly, he moaned. “I’ve imagined this so many times, wondering what you’d taste like.” Another lick, a little suckle on your nub. “My imagination is nothing compared to the real thing. You are fucking delectable.”

Dave ate pussy with the same intensity he maintained during missions – single-minded focus, expert precision, and refusing to stop until the objectives were met. You came three fucking times on his tongue, his fingers providing an assist for the last one. Bordering on overstimulation, your eyes watered, and tear tracks ran down your cheeks as your chest heaved.

Aftershocks were still rolling through you as Dave slithered up your body to kiss you, his chin glistening with your juices. His tongue dipped into your mouth, feeding you the taste of yourself mixed with his unique taste and you moaned softly against his lips.

Your palms glided down the smooth muscles of his shoulders and back, grabbing handfuls of his ass to press the full weight of him against you as the kiss continued. You loved the feeling of his broad chest pressed against your breasts, his hands gripping your hips and caressing your face. When you snaked one hand between your bodies to feel the thickness of his cock, Dave pulled back.

“No, sweetheart. I’m too worked up. This will be over before it starts if you touch me right now,” he admitted in a raspy, stuttering voice. “I want to come in your pretty little pussy the first time, ok?”

Overwhelmed with need, you nodded, and Dave grinned down at you. “Cock drunk already, are you?”

Swatting at him, you whined, “I just need to feel you. Please, Dave.”

He paused, staring down at you. “Do you… should I wear a condom?”

“No. I want to feel all of you. I’m clean and on birth control, I promise.” You pawed at him, trying in vain to pull him onto, into you fully.

“Me, too,” Dave admitted, sinking into you, finally.

Ohhh. You could barely breathe as he fed you his cock, the sheer size of him taking your breath away. There was a slight pinch of pain at first, your body out of practice when it came to penetration, but the way Dave moved against you, inside you, had you moaning in no time.

“That’s it. There’s my little Firecracker,” he encouraged you when your moans increased. “It’s ok, you don’t have to be too quiet.”

“Dave,” you drew out his name in a long mewl, fingertips clawing at his back when he hit that spongy spot inside you. “Fuck. I didn’t know it could be this good.”

He kissed your face – forehead, cheeks, and the tip of your nose – before smiling down at you with glazed eyes. “It’s all you, baby. You feel so good like you were made for this cock. I could live here, inside this tight fucking pussy for the rest of my life.”

Dave continued thrusting his hips in the perfect rhythm, occasionally grinding his thumb down against your clit as the wave of pleasure began to crest. He talked you through it with debauched praise, letting you know how good you made him feel, how he never wanted this to end. You came first, crying out his name like a siren song until his thrusts stuttered and his cock pulsed, filling you with ropes of cum as he moaned your name in your ear.

Afterward, you cuddled together – it still surprised you how much Dave liked to cuddle with you – talking and chuckling in low voices, enjoying the private moment. Eventually, Dave cleaned you and himself up before going upstairs for a snack. Your mom came home, tipsy from a night out, and Dave helped her up the stairs to bed before telling her he had work to do in his office.

When he reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Dave veered towards your room and climbed back into bed with you, curling his body around yours. He was right where he wanted to be.

tbc

Chapter Seven

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[aceascake]

it snowed here (!!!) and i have been once again reminded that i am an incorrigible winter enjoyer

[dadbots]

cold as shit & freezing my ass off in this winter (But at least we made it to December.)

[webism]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎HOT ROD !

After getting hooked on your taste, pornstar!satoru invites you and your pornstar boyfriend to shoot a threesome in the countryside.

pornstar!suguru x pornstar!satoru x fem!reader | part one, two

cw; ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she/her pronouns used for reader, unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m and f receiving), anal (m receiving), mmf threesome, voyeurism.

The sun has barely risen, the typical tangelo orange of a morning sky is yet to develop—instead, you watch a dull pink canvas the sky, turned more of a rose colour through the car's windshield. Suguru Geto, your lover and costar alike, keeps his hand on your thigh as he drives. Occasionally, he'll tap his fingers against your exposed flesh along to the beat of the old niche rock song blaring through the radio. You have the volume up too high—which isn't good for your ears, but is great for the soul—and the windows rolled all the way down. The wind is in your hair, which aids the setting heat of Summer in Japan. It's quite pleasant out here. You're filming at a location you can only reach through an open road that goes right past some very scenic hills, and you're having a lovely time just enjoying your lover's company. Nothing but the two of you. 

That being said—something sits at the forefront of Suguru's mind. You can tell his thoughts are preoccupied, having been with him so long gets you a sweet look into that pretty mind of his. So, when the strings of an electric guitar die out, you turn the radio down and shift in your seat to face him better. 

“Cold feet?” You ask. 

His hair is up and out of his face, save for a stand that falls over his eyes, though it’s pushed back by the wind regardless. He glances at you, smiles, and looks away.

“I don’t get cold feet," he says flatly, looking at you for half a second before his focus returns to the road. “I'm just interested to see if he'll fuck as good with me there, of if the poor guy will get performance anxiety."

Ah, jealousy it is. The flat kind, because your sweet-boned lover never gets openly jealous. You have to settle for half-bitten quips. You smile, "he didn't seem like the type to get performance anxiety."

Suguru hums in a noncommittal way, his lips pulling inwards. He squeezes the fat of your thigh and taps a finger against your skin.  Your skin heats under his touch, it always does. You might earn your living through the most sensual of touches, but none of them quite set you alight like Sugurus does.

Well, except for Satoru. You try to avoid closing your eyes, in fear of being met with the memory of his cock sinking into you rather than the darkness of your closed eyelids. You feel half-guilty, despite Suguru's obvious itch to see you laid out for Satoru Gojo of all people. You know him, you wouldn't be driving forty minutes through the countryside if Suguru wasn't at least a little bit obsessed with the fantasy.

Satoru Gojo, a known name in the porn industry, got to fuck you stupid only a week ago. He had asked you out for drinks after, and though you rejected him verbally, you’re starting to fear that your mind didn’t reject him in the same regard. You had come home that night to your sweet Suguru, and told him all about being hit on by your co-star, to which he laughed.

And oh the irony, that your Suguru was balls-deep inside of you that night when the two of you got an email from Satoru’s agent– an offer, an expensive one. One shoot, a week from then, a threesome between his new favourite love birds and, of course, him.

Suguru remembers Satoru like he was the season prior, like the winter that bled into you, the spring. They did a few films together, Satoru got a little too stuck in Sugurus mind and then, once their contracts were up, they never spoke again. 

The rising sun makes him squint against the road— he almost misses the turn off to the countryside estate you had been told to meet at. The place is nice, big, and you’re starting to wonder just how widely distributed this porno will be if the producer is shelling out so much money just for an estate to rent out for half a day. 

“With how much they’re paying us, I half expected the budget for location to allow for a crack den at most,” Suguru snorts as he pulls in through the large paved driveway. 

“No kidding,” you hum. With this paycheck, you’d just be greedy looking for work in the next few months. 

Suguru parks and undoes his seatbelt with a sideways glance in your direction. “We’re a bit early,” he notes. “But it never hurts to get a feel for the place, talk to our co-star for a minute or two.”

You smile. “Mhm, talk.”

“Ready to get fucked for cash?” Suguru snorts, and opens his door to get out of the car. You follow suit, rolling your eyes at his crude words when your feet hit the ground and you’re closing your door behind you. 

You walk around the car to meet your boyfriend, and he greets you with a pinch to your ass and a kiss to your temple. You’d recognise something poetic in the contrast of his actions if your mind wasn’t so preoccupied with thoughts of performing for him in only a few moments. 

Despite both being pornstars, you rarely take scenes together. Threesomes aren’t a frequent venture— this is something relatively untapped for the both of you. And though you’re sure it would never jeopardise your relationship at all, you can’t help but entertain the worries that creep in. Will Suguru really not mind sharing? 

You aren’t sure what’s worse— the thought of him getting overly jealous of Satoru and cutting the scene short, or the thought of Suguru not minding in the slightest as you get fucked stupid by another man. A little possession never goes unappreciated on your end. 

“Hey,” Suguru’s silken voice brings you back to the now. “You okay? We can turn around and speed off into the sunrise if you want to leave.”

You grin. “I’m good. Excited, even.”

Your boyfriend nods and leads the way to the estate's front door. It’s closed, which is a little odd considering the production crew will be coming in and out with equipment and the such. You furrow your eyebrows and realise your car is the only one here—maybe you’re earlier than you realised. 

“You checked the shoot time, right?” you ask. 

“Yes, love,” Suguru makes it to the front door and tries the handle only to find it locked. “Fuck, maybe I should have triple checked.”

He presses a thick finger to the doorbell button and glances to you as the sound of an overly upbeat chime echoes through the estate. Maybe it’s the wrong place, too lavish to be true. Maybe it’s the wrong date, even. Maybe—

The door swings open, and standing to greet you with a knowing grin is Satoru Gojo. 

His eyes meet yours first, and then drop to take in the rest of you. Something soft flashes over his face. Lust, perhaps, or appreciation, maybe both.  His arms cross over his chest, leaning his body weight on the doorframe as he flits his gaze to your boyfriend, and his eyes return.

“Long time no see, lovebirds. Just on time," he chirps, stepping aside to let you in. "Excuse the mess, I just moved in."

It takes a moment for your brain to register his words, and Suguru is right behind you in thought. "This is your place?" he asks, appraising the foyer as he walks in. 

“Mhm,” Gojo replies, and though you expect his lilt to be more cocky, he speaks smooth like silk. “The city is too… busy for me. Plus.. saves a dollar on renting out a house to film in, right?”

You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips: from the looks of his home you doubt he’d blink an eye at paying rent for a night of filming. Still, you don’t know if he’s just trying to show off, or if he really wants his home to play backdrop for the shoot. But whatever the case, he definitely thinks it’s clever on his behalf to lead the both of you here. It worked, you give it to him, but damn.

You look around, taking in everything that catches your eye – the sleek furnishings, a wide kitchen to the left, and an elegant living room straight ahead. All of it feels clean and welcoming. You wonder, idly, what it's like for Gojo to live in a space like this all alone – if he is alone, that is. The question remains unanswered as Gojo leads the two of you down the hall until you reach another door and slip inside.

The bedroom you end up in is stunning; a double bed dominates the centre of the room with fluffy duvets thrown haphazardly over top, whilst the walls are painted a warm, calming shade of grey. The carpet is plush and dark brown in colour, the curtains hanging at either side of the grand windows allow for plenty of natural light to flood the room. There's a tripod set up with a very expensive looking camera pointed directly at the bed: Satoru points to it and grins at you and Suguru, "our camera crew."

You furrow your eyebrows, but Suguru speaks up before you can. "It's just us?" 

Satoru nods, crossing his corded arms and he flits his gaze between the two of you. "Yes. I did specify it was a private shoot, lovebirds."

Your boyfriend settles in closer beside you than before, you can feel the heat from his body as he crosses his own arms, a mirror of the white haired man in front of you. "I figured it was a private production shoot," he speaks cautiously. "The email I got was from an agent, not you directly."

Satoru looks unperturbed. "'Course," he says languidly. "She handles all my correspondence."

Gojo turns to the dresser and, from the top drawer, pulls out two white envelopes. Your eyes linger a little too long on his slender fingers as he hands them over to you, one each. As you peek into the envelope handed to you, you find an obscene amount of cash neatly sat inside. 

"As agreed, plus... a little extra for the commute," Gojo shrugs. "You can take it and go, if this isn't what you want. If it is, well..." He gestures to the bed. "I'm kinda dying here."

You glance down at his insinuation and find that he's beyond hard. His pants are tight and tented, making his arousal painfully evident. You have to force your gaze elsewhere – to Suguru, who is staring almost shamelessly at Gojo, his brows creased in the middle as he thinks.

The silence is deafening, you can feel the tension rising between the three of you, vibrating off the surface of your skin and permeating the air itself. Suguru seems to have made his mind up, because he turns to you with an awfully familiar look on his face: desire.

"Thoughts, darling?" he asks, and your stomach flips. 

There's no point in pretending that there aren't things wrong with how your mind still reels after Satoru's touch. This entire thing has been confusing and disorientating; you're confused about everything – your feelings, your career, your sexual desires – and now, in your current situation, you’re downright torn. And yet, despite that, despite all the questions swirling around in your mind, as soon as your eyes land on Satoru's again – you know you'd die without another taste of his pink glossed lips. That feeling, the desire, the forethought of how he'd pant and whine after you've fucked him senseless – you'll do anything to achieve it. 

This doesn’t feel like work anymore, not with the way these two men are looking at you. The camera isn’t even rolling yet, and yet you find yourself ready to fuck them both to the brink of oblivion.

So, without so much as a second of hesitation you pull away from your train of thought and turn to press your lips to Suguru's in a searing kiss. The action, so swift, causes Gojo's breath to hitch in his throat at the sight. Suguru kisses you back, of course, the hand that isn't holding his envelope quickly makes its way to your waistline and pulls you flush against him, leaving nothing but your clothes between the both of you. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck as Gojo watches the two of you intently, gaze burning into the meeting of your lips. You can feel him watching you, his spectatorship dizzying, and you bite Suguru's bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the moan bubbling up your throat.

“Jeez, didn’t know this was a cuckolding shoot,” Satoru sounds whiney, threadbare with lust. “Though I wouldn’t mind that… another time maybe.”

You place a hand on the planes of Suguru’s chest as you disconnect your lips and turn your head to the white-haired pervert with heart-shaped pupils. Your grin is sweet, sultry - "another time, huh?"

You pull apart from Suguru and move past Gojo, making a point not to glance in his direction, until you're crawling onto the bed and turning to rest with your elbows propping you up. Both Suguru and Satoru standing, your observers - admirers, is a sight for sore eyes. The camera sits between them, propped up and set on you. In spite of it, you feel oddly at home. The same sweet excitement builds within you that you normally feel when it’s just you and Suguru at home. You didn't know the air could weigh so intimately in front of a camera.

It takes a moment of staring at you, jaw slack, for Satoru to finally spring into thought. He steps towards the camera, makes sure everything is looking good, and then clears his throat as he presses record. He almost looks nervous, and if he weren't so cocky in his usual demeanour you'd think he's getting cold feet. But you remember the way his eyes glossed when he pushed into you, how that confidence of his melted into carnal need in just one thrust. You know what you do to him, and god does it seem amplified tenfold with Suguru here.

And your black-haired lover must know it too, because the second Satoru makes a move to speak, Suguru cuts him off with a step towards him and a burning kiss pressed to his lips. Satoru's sound of alarm at Suguru's lips on his is almost enough to send you dizzy, but the true aphrodisiac is the sight of your lover taking charge with him; lips locked onto one another, the lewd noises they make as Suguru cups Satoru's face with one hand and scratches into the back of his hair with the other. Satoru's moans become louder and more desperate, as Suguru's tongue explores the recesses of his mouth, sucking hungrily upon the flesh of his lower lip. When the two break apart they're both breathing heavily, panting as they catch their breath. An undoubted look of longing is etched into every last one of their handsome features.

You feel your stomach roil with anticipation as you watch them, realising the camera is only pointed at you, capturing your wanton expression. But then, it snaps, and suddenly your lovers are pulling apart to instead lay their gaze on you, resting back on Satoru's wildly comfortable bed sheets with a lust-driven smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re a fucking lucky man, Suguru,” Satoru coos, blue eyes raking over you in appreciation. You’re hardly undressed, and yet you feel naked under his gaze. “Don’t know how you can do porn when you’ve got such a pretty thing waiting for you at home. It’d ruin my performance.”

“I know,” Suguru says plainly, truly. "You've never been good at multitasking, have you Satoru?"

"Harsh words," Satoru pouts, giving his best imitation of an overly dramatic frown. "I can multitask just fine, do you need me to prove it?"

Without a word further, he plucks the camera from its tripod and points it at Suguru. "For example," he sing-songs, "I can fuck and film at the same time."

“Can’t do it dressed,” you point out, to which both men turn to find you already stripping yourself of your clothes. Satoru turns the camera onto you, finding it a sin to not capture you revealing yourself with such delicate fingers. You look into the lens, eyes sultry as you’re known for doing, and wonder just how many people are going to slip their hands under their waistbands at the sight of you. 

Once you’ve laid yourself bare, your naked skin feels static with the tension in the air, you reach your hands out and make grabby-hands at Satoru. “Pass the camera,” you hum. “It’s your turn.”

A glance between themselves, and then Satoru is leaning over the bed to slot the camera in your hands. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be, but feels nice and cooling against your otherwise sweaty palm. Satoru’s fingers brush over yours as he hands it over, something electric stills the room for a moment, and then he pulls away with a cough.

He hadn’t realised that Suguru had fallen into place behind him, because when he steps backwards and his back hits your boyfriend's chest, Satoru gasps. You capture the pink blush that speckles at his cheeks, and the beautiful way in which Sugurus hands snake around his body to caress down his chest.

Suguru has always been gifted in the way of sparking intimacy. It’s why the porn he shoots is usually so artistic, he’s sensual. And Satoru, not for the first time, is falling victim to his seductive ways. The gentle traces of his fingers down Satoru’s chest is testament enough to just how narcotic Suguru’s touch is. When he reaches the hem of his shirt and starts lifting upwards, unwrapping his next meal, Satoru can’t help but lift his arms and help move the process along — he’s feeling beyond restless. 

Now exposed, Satoru’s chest and torso are now at the mercy of Suguru’s searing touch. Each trail of his fingers down the white-haired man’s chest, each tweak over his surprisingly sensitive nipples, each rough kiss against the column of his neck, they all elicit the most pornographic moans from Satoru Gojo’s throat. You study them both through the camera’s screen, and watch as Suguru presses his lips against Satoru’s ear.

He speaks in hushed tones, enough so that you know the camera isn’t going to pick up on his words. You can hear them though, only just, they're low and sensual and entirely full of sin. "You're lucky I'm letting you fuck my girlfriend for a second time," he purrs. "You know, she hasn’t stopped thinking about your last shoot. We watched it together the other night, I matched your rhythm, let her pretend it was you. She’s obsessed."

You're almost embarrassed by the confession, a burn sheens your skin, but the way Satoru's eyes darken impossibly further calms you. Suguru grins, catching your gaze from over Satoru's shoulder, and presses a kiss to his earlobe. "It brought me back, too," he says. "To when I got you to myself. You remember our films, hm? You're just like she is." 

Satoru nods, the tips of his ears turning redder. His breathing is shallow, ragged, needy; and in a split second he's turning around and returning his lips to Suguru's. Desperate hands lift at your boyfriend's own shirt, exposing his tattoo-laden skin underneath. His jeans soon follow, and then so do Satoru's pants.

For a moment it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Satoru's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Satoru takes Suguru's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Suguru's throat.

And when they part, it's obvious just how much heavier the air has gotten. Suguru turns your white-haired tryst and pushes him towards where you sit on the bed. "Move your ass before I fuck that too," he deadpans.

Satoru doesn't blush like you expected he would. Instead, he grins. "That would be a big change from last time, don't you think?" he sing-songs, eyebrows raised as he steps further towards the bed. "Or maybe you don't remember crying from how well I stretched you out, I sure do, all pretty and—"

This time Suguru does flush crimson, and you laugh out loud at this revelation. "I didn't know you bottomed for him," you shake the camera a little with your laughter, capturing the way Suguru glares at Satoru from beneath long eyelashes, "that's something I've got to see."

"Hah," Suguru climbs onto the bed and snatches the camera from you, settling on his knees as he points it down at your form. There, his fingers graze lightly against your bare skin, making you arch your back in anticipation. "Tough luck, pretty."

His black boxers are beyond tented, and he slips them off easily enough, allowing his cock to spring free, perfectly poised and ready for your hand. The sound of Suguru's moan as your fingers wrap around his length is paired with the shuffle of Satoru climbing onto the bed too. He hovers above you for a moment, watching you stroke Suguru through the camera, before taking it from him with a grin. 

Satoru returns the camera to its stand and checks its positioning before climbing back onto the bed and settling himself just behind you. You turn to smile at him, and then gasp as his hands tentatively find your shoulders. He peers over you, to the sight of Suguru’s drooling cock in your hand, and presses a kiss to the skin just under your ear.

“You know I’m fucking obsessed with you, right?” He purrs, glancing down to your boyfriend's cock before pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you. I dreamt of breaking you and your boyfriend up until I found out it was Sugu, here. Wanted you all to myself, pretty thing, but I think I’m happy enough to share now, because god do I want to see your lips wrapped around his cock.”

“Mm,” you hum, turning your head to meet his gaze. “You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you’re making demands?”

Satoru smiles, his lips glossy and so perfect you could cry. “I want to taste him on you.”

His words light a fire in your core that licks through your body, ravenous. You can't help but oblige at his words, returning your gaze to sweet Suguru before dipping your head down and pressing a chaste kiss to the weeping tip of his cock. Suguru and Satoru both inhale sharply when you do so. You wet your lips with your tongue and then meet his cock again, drawing lazy circles across his tip before closing your lips slowly, reverently around the shaft of Suguru's cock.

Satoru's hand pushes down a little on your shoulder, and you're forced forward onto your lover's length. Your moan betrays you and sends narcotic vibrations down his shaft, making Suguru grunt and buck his hips forward a little. Satoru, who remains behind you, gently takes hold of your hips and manoeuvres you into more of a doggy-style position — your fingers splayed over Suguru's thighs to try and find purchase as Satoru leans over you. 

Gojo's chest presses against your back, skin-to-skin intimacy broken by the feverish kisses he presses to the back of your neck, down to your shoulder blades, your spine, His kisses become hotter, wetter, open-mouthed as he moves down to your waist, large hands playing with the flesh of your ass as he kisses a path down. You moan and shift against his grip, moving your hips in an effort to push yourself back against his boxer-clad erection, but Satoru only snaps you forward, and you choke a little as you're forced to take Suguru's cock even deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," Suguru hisses, pretty purple eyes meeting yours as you look up. Drool glosses his length, slick and hot and heavy against your tongue when he finally gives you a moment to breathe. 

Your mouth immediately goes back to work again once your breathing steadies, hollowing out your cheeks and dragging him down, deeper, faster, more desperately. The receipt of pleasure etched into Suguru's tight-wound face is enough to spur on your own needs, but you nearly choke when Satoru Gojo bites into the fat of your ass. Your body arches up and you squirm and whine, but Satoru is relentless, licking over the indentations left behind as Suguru snaps his hips into your open mouth over and over again.

You barely have room to move before Satoru is pushing your knees apart with a strong hand, the heel of his palm firm against your ass as he spreads you open. He takes a moment, heavy breaths fan against your exposed slick, and you’re suddenly all too aware of yourself. You’d protest, tell him not to stare if your mouth wasn’t full with your heavy-lidded lover's cock. You don’t even know why you’re embarrassed — you’re a pornstar, your job is to lie subject to the most intimate of ogling.

Your thoughts melt into the bedsheets, however, when Satoru groans and connects his lips to your pussy. Stupid off the taste of you alone, he whines against your slick heat, enamoured. His tongue flicks over you, circling your clit repeatedly and making your insides burn. You moan, and it comes out muffled and breathless around Suguru's dick.

"You taste so fucking good," Satoru speaks against your cunt. One hand slips between your legs, running two fingers through your folds in collection of your arousal, whilst his other hand tugs down at his own boxers, pulling his cock free and growling against your pussy as he starts to stroke at himself. "Fuuuuuckkk..." He pushes two fingers into you, easy with just how wet you are, and curls them in tandem with each pump of his cock.

Each thrust of his fingers pushes you just that little bit further onto Suguru's length. And you're thanking god that he's there, because without his muscled thighs to hold onto, you fear you’d be fucked too dizzy to keep yourself upright. You figure you must look a mess now, hair mussed and eyes bleary and drool rolling down your chin and all over Suguru's pulsing cock. 

You feel pathetic with how quickly your orgasm crests. Satoru must feel it too, how you clench around your fingers, the subtle tremor in your thighs, because his tongue only speeds up in its assault.  He's still stroking himself, keeping you open and willing as he sucks your clit harshly. Once you're right at the brink, teetering off the edge of ecstasy, Suguru pulls out of your mouth and leans down to crash his lips against yours. 

"Come," he orders into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. "Come for us, darling, come on now."

You're overwhelmed by Suguru's rakish lips over yours, and Satoru's relentless tongue over your sex. Before you can even try to present yourself for the cameras, you're cumming, hard. You writhe against Suguru, and your nails scrape across his thighs until you can hardly draw breath. The world slows down around you, leaving nothing but pleasure to consume.

"Holy shit," Satoru’s breath comes out in a hitched sort of laughter as he pulls back, not bothering to wipe away the sheen of your lust that coats his mouth and chin. “My head’s spinning, I think I’m in heaven. Do I still have a pulse?”

He makes a show of checking his pulse, despite the way you roll your eyes. You’re still coming down from your climax as Suguru peppers feather-light kisses over your face. Satoru, feeling more hungry than doting, brings his two fingers to his own mouth, licking them clean. Suguru catches sight of the action and gently pulls back from you, something knowing in his eyes.

You assume he’s going to redirect your head back to his cock, let you finish your job, but instead he tuts and nods his head to your shared tryst, who is still diligently working at tasting you some more on his fingers. 

“Think someone’s a little pussydrunk,” Suguru grins, and you do too at the sight of Satoru Gojo so blatantly desperate for more. Your eyes drift down to his cock, long and hard and weeping with precum. 

Though, you don’t want to neglect Suguru, so you turn back to him — “you didn’t finish,” you make a move to reach for his cock, still rock hard and achy-looking, but your lover shakes his head gently. 

“Got other plans,” he nods subtly to Gojo. “How about we show our stalker here just how much better the real thing is?”

You grin, catching onto his drift, and watch over your shoulder as Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes. “You know, I’ve had the real thing, from both of you.”

“You haven’t had both of us,” Suguru shrugs. “And I know you’ve fucked your fist to the thought of it. Don’t lie, or you won’t enjoy this as much as you could.”

Satoru’s loaded remark gets stuck in his throat as Suguru pulls away from you entirely, though not without a gentle kiss to your forehead first. He stands by the bed, rolls his shoulders and nods to Satoru — “go on,” he gestures to you, still on your hands and knees. “Taste me on her lips.”

Satoru would probably blush if he weren’t so dedicated to the promise of a taste, because he’s got a hand under your stomach and is flipping you onto your back with ease in only half a second. You sigh at the reprieve of the strain on your hands and knees, and revel in how soft Satoru’s mattress is, when he’s collapsing on top of you with a strangled growl and his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a strange thing, to taste both Satoru, yourself, and Suguru at the same time. You taste Satoru in the way he kisses, hungry and listless, with knocking teeth and exploratory tongues. You taste Suguru in the remnants of his cock in your mouth, the precum that has coated your tongue, mixed with your saliva that now mixes with Gojo’s. And you taste yourself glossed on Satoru’s lips; your climax, the buildup of pleasure he had gifted you with both his mouth and fingers. 

A strange mix, maybe, but a perfect one nonetheless. You have to close your eyes to stop yourself from growing too dizzy, and also partly to stop yourself from worrying too hard — how were you meant to enjoy anything to its full potential now that you know how this tastes?

Satoru’s cock presses against the inside of your thigh; you can feel the gentle thrum of its pulse — a testament to his aching need. His arms box you in on either side, settled comfortably between your still-shaky legs. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips to his, and his eyes are darker than you remember. 

“I need to be inside of you, need. You’re fuckin’... god I can’t think.”

As if by instinct, your legs part further, allowing him the access he so craves. It’s a fluid movement, the way he moves one hand down to direct his cock to your slick folds. He rubs himself against you, his tip kissing your clit teasingly. You suck in a shaky breath between parted lips, and when he doesn’t hurry up despite his desperation, you feel like you could cry.

Though, before a complaint can leave your lips, you're watching as Suguru joins you two on the bed, kneeling behind Satoru and running his long fingers gently down the white-haired man's bare back. Satoru's head falls forward at the touch, and as your boyfriends hand runs lower and lower on his back, you realise exactly where this is going. 

"You're gonna fuck her good," Suguru purrs, graceful in his touch. "Because I'm going to help you -- that okay?" He reaches back up, brushing his knuckles from between his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine until he reaches his tailbone. 

Satoru's eyes are locked on yours as he answers your lover. "Yes," his exhale is beyond needy. "Please, god. Yes."

And from there, things move with practised ease. It feels normal to submit yourself, your body, to Satoru. As Suguru takes hold of either side of his waist and guides him into you, the stretch is searing. You remember just how hard it was to adjust to his size the first time, having to try and keep your face melted neutral for the cameras. You don't feel that same pressure now, despite Satoru still filming, and your nose scrunches up at the feeling of Satoru inside of you.

"You're..." you try, words stuck in your throat as Suguru pushes Satoru's hips into yours a little more. "Please."

Satoru takes control of the pace, his breath hot and heavy on your cheek, his body moving in sync. You moan as he starts thrusting slowly in and out, stretching every muscle in your body as you get used to the feeling. With every thrust, you feel him getting harder and deeper within you, and his mouth dips down to trail along the sensitive skin on your neck.

It's a narcotic, the way he fills you. He's longer than Suguru, though not quite as thick, but he reaches depths that aren't typical for you. As he sheathes himself deeper and deeper inside of you, with the help of Suguru's hands on his waist, You slowly become spineless; relaxing into the pleasure of his sweet push and pull.

Sweat beads at your skin as Satoru quickens the pace, pulling out and plunging back in again with unbridled whimpers as Suguru works on taking his fill. Your boyfriend, domineering though still gentle, starts working your tryst open with one of his fingers.

"Ah- fuck," Satoru's words are heady with need, the initial discomfort of Suguru's fingers pushing into his ass are quickly forgotten, replaced with a deep yearning for more sensation. It sends his hips snapping into yours, bottoming out inside of you at such depths you can't help but cry out. It's a symphony of wetness and gasps of air, each syllable punctuated by Satoru's frantic movements. Your body grows tighter and tighter around Satoru with every pass as he gets worked open so beautifully by Suguru.

Your mind is clouded by everything Satoru has done to you and by the sheer force of him filling you with his cock and all that comes with it. You're completely and utterly lost in the moment, consumed by Satoru, who is consumed by Suguru, who is consumed in the pleasure of serving you both in turn. 

"More," Satoru is barely able to get the word out as he slams deeper and deeper inside of you. "Fuck, more."

And Suguru isn't one to deny a pretty thing like Satoru such pleasures; he's pulling his fingers out of him in seconds and replacing them with the head of his cock at his ass. Suguru is gentle, but unrelenting as he thrusts himself into Satoru in one fluid motion. The pressure is enough to prick tears at Satoru's pretty blue eyes, which you reach up and wipe away from underneath him. 

A moment is shared, a chance for Satoru to breathe the best he can, before he's testing the waters and pushing back a little, onto Suguru's cock, before thrusting his hips forward, into you. 

This is ecstasy incarnate. The two men seem to merge together, their bodies melting as they meet. Suguru fucks you through Satoru, each thrust into him is a thrust into you, into the both of you. It almost hurts, you'd wager, the way your whole body throbs in synchronization with theirs, the way Satoru moans as Suguru drives you both to insanity. It's a weird way to connect with your lover, but one that works nonetheless, the both of you seem to share an awful yearning for the man sandwiched between you, fucked mindless. 

And then he's driving your entire being towards the edge, and you feel the orgasm coming on, the rush of blood to your head, your muscles tightening around Satoru. It's a strange feeling of being connected to something bigger than yourself, a system working in tandem with each other to chase climax, but it's a feeling you're quickly growing addicted to. It's warm, it's comforting, and most importantly, it's yours. This man right here, his body pressed tight between yours and Sugurus, is yours. Even if only for the early morning.

"Gonna cum," you whine, lips ghosting against Satoru's. He nods, eyes locked onto yours. 

"M—fuck—me too, baby. God, you have to let me come inside of you, doll, can't deny me, please. You—"

"You better," Suguru cuts in, his voice biting from behind Satoru. He thrusts sharply into Satoru, sending him keening forward into you, pressing right into your sensitive g-spot as Suguru hits his prostate in a mirrored pleasure. "Wanna watch you claim her," he bears down, "gonna fill you up, you fill her — watch her face, Satoru. Watch what you do to her."

You gasp as Satoru's fingers dip down to rub frantic circles over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm with each knock of his hips into your, of Suguru's into his. the room is filled with a chorus of moans and whines and desperate pleas for more and more and more. You know you'll never recover from this level of arousal if you don't come soon, but before you can find purchase in your body and begin your descent into bliss, Suguru is first to come undone.

His hips snap forward into Satoru, head craning into his neck, biting down on the muscle of his shoulders for some sort of physical gag — ever the one to stifle those beautiful noises of his. And the feeling of being filled in such ravaging volumes must be enough to send Satoru over the edge, too, because he's knitting his eyebrows together and cumming ropes into you in only moments.

"Fuck," he whines, once again tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by the duality of his pleasure, of you and Suguru, so close to you but also never close enough. He wants to be one with you, a complete unit, bound by sex and soul and the sweet sounds of the most powerful orgasm he's ever had in his life. 

You come in tandem with him, it's completely blinding. Your legs fall apart as you cry out, nails scraping across Satoru's bicep as the world melts away and the sensations start swirling about in your mind's eye and the last thing you register is Satoru collapsing forward, breathing raggedly into your ear. 

You catch the salty flavour of him as you suck in a lungful of air and smile in response, fucked stupid and blissful and never ready to give this feeling up. Never ready to give anyone else this feeling- god, you already despise whoever gets to taste Satoru Gojo next. 

Suguru has to pull out of Satoru slowly, and you wipe at his face with the pad of your thumb when it scrunches up in protest of the loss of Suguru’s stretch. Before he can truly call the scene over, though, Satoru leans down and presses the most gentle of kisses to your lips. A myriad of ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’s spill from his tongue as he does so, each word cut by a kiss to the expanse of your face.

And when he pulls out of you a sickening gush of his cum follows. It spills from your aching pussy and onto the bed sheets beneath you, though Satoru doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He swipes his finger through the mess he’s made of your sex, smiling when you hiss at just how sensitive you are, and brings his cum-coated finger back to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 

Your stomach flips at the sight. Great, he’s gone and fucked you lovestruck.

“Satoru,” a clean voice cuts in. Your head constricts in your fucked out daze when you turn to see Suguru standing by the tripod, his eyebrows raised and pretty purple eyes beyond amused. “It’s not even fucking recording.”

Instead of being confused, Satoru looks sheepish. He flops down onto the bed next to you, eyes glossy and cheeks blushed pink. “I…. can explain? I think I’d rather die than share the two of you with the world. But I’d really die if I didn’t get my hands on you both.”

You meet your boyfriend's gaze. Something passes between you, something knowing. In a weird, probably unhealthy way, you both feel the exact same. This was never a scene for the cameras, anyway— not when such strong… feelings are involved.

“I’m not proposing marriage here,” Satoru huffs when he catches onto your shared gaze. “I just, you enjoyed it, right?”

You giggle from beside him, your sweat-soaked skin cool against the air. Suguru chimes in with his laughter, melodic and beautiful. He folds his arms and watches the two of you laid across the bed. 

“Let’s get you both cleaned up, then,” Suguru hums. “I’m not fucking either of you again until we’ve shared a shower.

TAGLIST: @sugurubabe @fullbelieverheart @starrysho @meowforluv @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra @inconcise @sexcults @hotgirlgoob @mistalli @ourfinalisation @graceloveslanadelrey @blessed-princesa @plinkuro @pe4rl-diver @sugojosgf @beachaddict48 @chimmysoftpaws @blendingcaramal @dongh9e @caramelised-onions @kyluskaye @sammywo @4evrglow @hiraethwa @stinkinstuffie @tomiokasecretlover @ser0t0nln @yuzu-ku @lagataprrr @dear-fifi @hel-lhound @kensqueent @sserafin @dabisdolly @zoroisminty @angelkazusstuff @reinam00n @kaeyakaikai @bunny416 @littletittygothgirl @glitterbitch1 @saccharine-nectarine

cont in comments !

[bunny-1111]

Eyes dont miss - Theo Nott x reader

Description: When you try to hide your anxiety from your observant boyfriend Theodore, it comes in crashing on you in the middle of the night, and you can't run from it any longer.

TW: anxiety attack

Word count: 1.3k

Fluff, unedited

...

There was little that Theodore missed.

In his eyes, he carried a loaded gun.

Ammo full of meticulous attention to detail.

He had you studied, fluent in you as if you were a language, the twitches in your eyes a verb, the tone in your voice an adjective.

You thought you hid yourself well, well enough to go unnoticed.

But he watched, even when you insisted on being ok.

He was demanding, a trait both good and bad, his stern demeanour insisting on answers, meeting your same stubborn answer, you were okay. Liar.

When it came to you, Theodore wouldn't allow himself to leave the slightest detail unscathed.

He watched and observed as you drew on your arms during class.

How you picked at the skin around your nails under the table of the great hall during dinner, your twitching hands fiddling as if your fingers depended on it.

How would you chew the gums at the side of your mouth

How he felt your fingers claw a little deeper into his shoulder when he suggested you both turn in for bed.

To Theodore, these things were concerning, though, when he would approach and accuse you of being undeniably going through it, you would deny, deny, deny.

Until you both hit the worst of it, in a cold winter night when you couldn't run away from it anymore. In the still and quiet hour of three am, you pant, in a hot sweat, string in a nightmare until Theo woke, immediately halting you up much to your fright.

As you sat up, the heavy rise and fall of your chest began to set him off too, his own breath hitched watching you fall apart for reasons above him.

His heavy hand polished up and down your back, he meant to be gentle, but he couldn't stop his mind to remember to be tender.

"What's going on" his voice echos through your ears

"Why are you yelling?!" you scream, your hands glued to your head, you wanted to rip your hair out there and then.

"What? Darling, talk to me," he quietly softly. He wasn't yelling, though to you. To you, his voice boomed with volume; just focus, you reminded yourself, come on idiot, stop this, stop it, focus, focus, focus.

Your hands fall in front of your face as you dig your nails into your skin time and time over.

When Theodore's hands take hold of your own, realise the almost bloody palms spread out, lacing his palms into yours.

"Feel my hand, hear my voice, c'mon" he whispered out.

His words cut through the fog like a lifeline, grounding you in their gentleness. Your head spun, reality blurred at the edges, but the steady warmth of his hands kept you tethered.

"Look at me," Theo urged softly, voice barely a murmur, as if afraid to startle you. He didn’t pull you out of the moment harshly, didn’t demand you shake it off. No, he anchored you, the pad of his thumb brushing along the back of your knuckles, each slow pass soothing, steadying.

He kept as much distance as he could, as if you were roadkill like he was gently aiding you off the road.

"Feel that, love?" he whispered, his dark eyes locked on yours with an intensity that was grounding in its calmness. "That’s me. I’m right here. I’ve got you."

You nodded, though the tremor in your hands betrayed you. Theo’s gaze remained unwavering, watching every flicker in your expression, the tiny cracks forming in your armour. You felt his hand drift to your cheek, warm and solid, the weight of it reassuring.

"I—" you started, words tangling in your throat, the shame of it making you flinch. The anxiety had been building for days, creeping up on you like a shadow. You'd convinced yourself you could manage, that you didn't need anyone, but Teddy wouldn't have that.

You weren't clueless. You brushed off his attempts of interrogation, but at this point, you were defenceless.

“You don’t have to explain it all, you know,” he murmured, his voice carrying the hint of a smile, as if he already understood without needing your words. "Just breathe. With me."

He guided you, slow and rhythmic, his own breathing soft and even. You mirrored him, matching his inhales and exhales, feeling the wild storm inside begin to quiet.

“Better?” he asked after a moment, not rushing, just waiting for you. His hand didn’t leave yours, fingers laced like he wouldn’t dare let go. And somehow, that small gesture made you feel safer than you’d felt in days.

You nodded again, feeling your heartbeat slow, the panic that had gripped you loosening, dissolving under his patient watch.

“Theo…” your voice broke a little, shaky and raw, but he just shook his head, his lips quirking up in that way that made you feel seen. Not judged. Not pitied. Just seen.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispered, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ll always be here, yeah? I've got eyes on you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

And in that moment, you knew he meant it.

Theo's gaze softened even further, though his grip on your hand remained firm, grounding. The quiet between you both was filled with his silent assurances, a warmth that felt like a promise of safety. Your heart felt exposed, raw, but under Theo’s watchful eyes, vulnerability didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like trust.

He shifted closer, closing the small gap between you, his knees brushing against yours as he sat across from you on the bed. “This… whatever it is you’re carrying,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “you don’t have to carry it alone.”

You hesitated, your mind flickering back to the countless times you’d brushed off his concern with a casual smile or a quick change of subject. You’d thought you were sparing him, protecting him from the weight of it all. But Theo was persistent, as if each little gesture you’d thought went unnoticed only made him more determined to understand.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, bringing you back from the haze of your thoughts. “You don’t have to be okay all the time, you know?” His voice was calm, unwavering. “Not with me. I’d rather have your truth than your silence.”

A shiver ran down your spine, the walls you’d built up crumbling in the quiet of his words. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you nodded, feeling a strange sort of relief wash over you, like a weight finally lifted.

"I… I didn’t want you to worry,” you whispered, your voice so soft it almost felt like a confession. “Didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it.”

Theo tilted his head, an understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Love, if handling it means suffering alone, I’d rather you not handle it at all.” His tone was gentle, but the conviction in his words was unyielding. "You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a sense of warmth through your chest, leaving you feeling exposed yet comforted in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. Slowly, he reached up, his hand brushing the hair back from your face, his touch feather-light but grounding.

You took a shaky breath, letting yourself lean into his touch, allowing the weight of the moment to settle. For the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, it was okay to not be okay. Because Theo wasn’t going anywhere. And for him, your honesty mattered more than anything you could hide.

The panic and the anxiety might not be going anytime soon, but you knew neither was Theo.

“Thank you,” you breathed, the words barely audible, but Theo heard. He always did. He listened, and watched and understood, he loved with all his senses. He never missed.

...

A/N, my darlings, I'm back writing again. Requests are open, and if any of you suffer from anxiety, my inbox is always a safe place for you to come and talk about it, or anything in general.

Peace and love,

B.

[abysstrap-ran]

❖ Piltover Winters (Jayce/Viktor Headcanons)

A/N: I realize I always come back to writing around xmas. Erm, anyway. Have you guys seen Savior Viktor??? Delicious. *I don’t actually know if it snows in PnZ but it’s December so let’s live a little.

❖ Viktor

If you're cold, chances are he's freezing too because of how cold he usually runs.

Will forget his scarf. Sometimes, in his work-induced haze, he also forgets that he's not dressed for the weather and walks out of the lab only to get blasted in the face by the sheer COLD, grumbling and sniffling as he retreats back inside. Hence, he appreciates the heater and the fireplace in his academy-funded apartment very much.

While he might not be the biggest fan of the winter chill, he’s amazed by snow since it never reaches the part of the Undercity where he grew up.

Give Viktor a cup of hot chocolate, and his eyes will light up. He won’t admit it, and very few know about it, but much like his love for sweetmilk, he is very much a fan of hot chocolate. However, he doesn’t opt for it too often because its sweetness will irritate his throat, so he takes it every once in a while. He’ll be in a good mood the whole day if he does get a cup, something that Jayce capitalizes on if only to see him smile.

This man can not get up in the mornings, preferring to burrow deeper into the blankets or closer to a heat source where it's warm and toasty. You’ll have to drag him out or coax him out with a cup of hot beverage.

His body does him no favors in this department. The ever-bearing cold makes his joints ache worse, so it’s safe to say that his leg does not like him very much.

Once he gets the back brace, the screws permanently etched onto his spine will hurt, especially in the deep of winter. He’s gotten used to it to a degree, but sometimes it renders him somewhat immobile. It is also hard to navigate through snow with a crutch. This is why you’ll almost never find him outside during the winter months, though that hasn’t changed much from the past. Even if he has to go outside for some godforsaken reason, he’ll make them short and snappy trips at best, or send Jayce, who would be more than happy to do so, in his place.

❖ Jayce

Snow is not his forte, considering how he nearly died in a blizzard as a child. But, it has grown on him slowly over time. Though, you won’t find him outside when the snowfall turns heavy.

He may not show it, but he loves the seasonal festivities. He fondly remembers hitting the attractions and festivals with Caitlyn back when they were both younger, and would sometimes do the same again, if only for the nostalgic factor.

The man of progress might be busy, but Jayce the present-giver works doubly hard. You may barely see him out of his lab, but he’ll make the time, sometimes out of thin air, to get everyone presents.

Coat? What is a coat? This guy’s a furnace, he’s fine (not really) but he will claim he’s fine if you ask. Will happily let anyone he's close to cling to him for his warmth, or laugh and give them his scarf so now they're like a two-scarf coat rack. Paints a rather funny picture to be bundled up in an abundance of scarves.

Probably has to participate in a lot of winter social events due to the council. Dutiful as he is, Jayce will attend those societal gatherings, but you bet he'd whine the next person's ear off by the time he's dragged to his mandatory 3rd dinner/gala or something similar along those lines. Sometimes, if he gets bored, he sneaks back to the lab when no one's noticing… until Heimerdinger pops up when he least expects it. “There's a time and place for innovation, my boy! But tonight's a night for the outdoors, don't you think?”

Will oftentimes be the first one up in the mornings because he knows he has a packed schedule and he'd better get up or else. When he doesn't get up due to it being a lazier day, he'll hog ALL the blankets, curling into a ball and going back for another snooze, much to your chagrin.

[sanemistar]

NEVER MEANT TO BE

contents ★ pro hero!katsuki x gn!reader, heavy angst, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort, slight swearing, 1k+ wc. requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ mha m.list

it was another cold winter day. the weather was as cold as ever and the sky was gray and gloomy, exactly how it was like that day. you sat there pointlessly staring at the window in a lifeless gaze as your mind replayed flashbacks to the day when everything ended with katsuki, and the sound of your yelling still vividly rang in your ears as if it had just happened.

it was a cold winter day when you had another argument with katsuki. you were aware of his hot temper and notorious attitude caused by his anger issues and his difficult job as a pro hero all along, so that wasn’t news to you. but because things used to be perfect at the beginning of your relationship, you thought that it wouldn’t really be a problem. since you accepted katsuki the way he was, you thought you could handle it.

except that as time passed by and things progressed, the cracks in the relationship began to show. and his anger issues worsened more and more. until it had reached a point where he would constantly yell at you over the smallest things, and you were just fed up. you couldn’t take it anymore.

“katsuki… i can’t take it anymore, i’m done.” you blurted out. shocking not only your boyfriend, but yourself as well. you never thought a day would come when you would utter such words to katsuki, he was the one man whom you loved more than anyone else in the world, you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with him by your side.

or so you thought.

you didn’t even realize that you had been trying to convince yourself that everything was fine and nothing was wrong for the longest time when in fact, things between you and him were completely far from being fine.

meanwhile, it was just then when katsuki realized that he had messed up big time. he was just then aware of the pressure and stress he had put you through until you couldn’t endure it anymore. he didn’t even remember when was the last time he didn’t have to yell.

that moment was an eye opener for the two of you to come to the conclusion that it was too late to go back to the way you once were, and that it was probably the end.

silence loomed over the shared bedroom, turning it from the most comfortable and safest place you once thought you could ever be in to an unfamiliar, scary place you wanted to run away from. but you were anxiously fidgeting with your fingers and your feet were glued to the floor, as if there was something weighing you down. making you unable to move.

your eyes were fixated on your feet, not daring to look up. although you did wonder what expression was on katsuki’s face back then.

after what seemed like years of awkward silence, katsuki finally spoke up.

“i put ya through so fucking much, didn’t i?” surprisingly, his voice was calm and soft spoken. it was said in the same voice that you had missed so much.

“look, i’m really sorry. i’ve been nothing but shitty to you this whole time we have been together, and you deserve someone better, so i’m lettin’ ya go.” you felt a twinge in your heart, as if you were being stabbed by a sharp knife.

your heart throbbed painfully, you weren’t ready to hear what he had just said. you didn’t want him to let you go, you wanted to hear him say that he’d stay and try his best with you to make it work out.

“we were never meant to be together.” you finally looked up, eyes wide open as they met his red ones for the first time in a while.

had you and katsuki really never been a good match and you had been blind to it all along?

it just hit you that your once perfect world had crashed intensely, breaking into pieces.

everything really was over. and it happened in the worst way you could ever imagine.

you didn’t even know what to say back to all that. as if words completely flew away from your head. you just found yourself running towards katsuki, body acting on its own as you wrapped your arms around him so tightly and began sobbing uncontrollably. the tears that welled in your eyes for long began to overflow and fall down your red cheeks, finally letting go of the anguish that was paining you.

you felt his strong arms holding you back, pulling you close to him and feeling you against his body one last time.

after some time you two broke away, eyes staring as you engraved each other’s faces in your heads. he cupped your cheeks in his calloused hands and the two of you shared your final kiss, your first and final goodbye. it tasted so bitter and so salty due to your tears, you hated it but you didn’t want it to end. because after that you would no longer feel those lips against yours.

but unfortunately, it had to come to an end.

nothing else was said after that, katsuki just packed his bags and moved out. the sight of his back facing you back then had been living in your memory to this day. despite that happening two years ago.

and for these past two years you hadn’t seen katsuki once, not even in your dreams. the only times you'd see him were when he was on tv having his heroic actions celebrated. he started off as a stranger to you who became your first ever love only to go back to being a stranger you knew nothing about.

you had hated winters. not only because you weren't a big fan of cold weather and gray, cloudy skies, but also because they always reminded you of your first love who ended up making you go through your first breakup and your biggest heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @17020

[elryuse]

Aespa that turns yandere for their younger male member?

No Escape

Yandere Aespa X Male Reader

You had always dreamed of being part of a K-pop group, but you never imagined that you would be the first male member of Aespa. The girls were a force to be reckoned with, each possessing their own unique charm and talent. However, when the news broke that a male member would be joining, the initial reaction from the girls was less than welcoming.

“Why do we need a guy?” Winter had said, crossing her arms with a frown. “It’s not like we need a prince charming.”

“Yeah, it’s just going to complicate things,” Giselle added, rolling her eyes.

Only Ningning seemed to have a different perspective. She approached you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with kindness. “Don’t worry! I think it’s cool that you’re here. We can be friends!”

Despite her efforts, the other members kept their distance, treating you like an outsider. You felt like a ghost in a vibrant world, watching the girls bond and laugh while you stood on the sidelines.

As the days turned into weeks, you found solace in Ningning’s company. She was the only one who made an effort to include you, inviting you to join her for meals and practice sessions. Her laughter was infectious, and slowly, you began to feel like you belonged, even if it was just the two of you.

“Do you think the others will ever warm up to me?” you asked one day, as you both shared a bowl of ramen.

Ningning shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They just need time. They’ll see how great you are!”

You smiled, grateful for her unwavering support. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of isolation. The other girls were still wary of you, and their coldness stung.

Everything changed one fateful day. A routine schedule turned into chaos when Karina, the leader of Aespa, was involved in a devastating accident. The news hit you like a ton of bricks. You rushed to the hospital, your heart racing with fear.

When you arrived, the atmosphere was tense. The other members were gathered in the waiting room, their faces pale and drawn. You approached them, your voice trembling. “How is she?”

“Not good,” Winter replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “She needs a blood and kidney transplant, and they’re struggling to find a match.”

Your heart sank. You had never been particularly close to Karina, but the thought of losing her was unbearable.

As the hours dragged on, the doctors finally approached the group. “We’ve found a potential match,” one of them said, looking directly at you. “It’s you.”

You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Me? But… Karina doesn’t even like me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the doctor insisted. “If you don’t do this, she could die.”

The thought of letting someone die, especially someone so talented and beloved, was unbearable. You took a deep breath, your heart racing. “I’ll do it.”

The operation was a blur of lights and sounds. You remember being wheeled into the operating room, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling your nostrils. As the anesthesia took effect, your last thought was of Karina. You hoped she would pull through.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the dull ache in your side. You reached for it, only to find a bandage covering the area where your kidney had once been. Panic surged through you, but then you remembered why you had done it.

Days passed, and you slowly recovered. You were surprised to find that Karina had survived the operation. When you finally saw her, she looked fragile but alive. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of something—gratitude, perhaps.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You saved my life.”

From that day on, everything changed. Karina, who had once been distant, began to seek you out. She would ask if you had eaten, insist on accompanying you to the cafeteria, and even beg you to join her for shopping trips.

“Come on! You need to get out more,” she would say, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

As the weeks went by, the other members began to follow suit. Winter would check in on you constantly, making sure you were resting and not overworking yourself. Giselle would bring you snacks, insisting that you needed to eat more.

Ningning, who had once been your only ally, now found herself in a whirlwind of emotions as she watched the other girls become increasingly protective of you. It was as if a switch had flipped, and the dynamic within Aespa had shifted dramatically.

“Are you okay with all of this?” Ningning asked one day, concern etched on her face as you sat in the practice room, surrounded by the other members who were fussing over you.

You chuckled lightly, trying to mask the unease that had settled in your stomach. “I mean, it’s nice to be cared for, but it feels a bit… overwhelming.”

Ningning nodded, her brow furrowing. “I get it. They’re just worried about you, especially after everything that happened with Karina. But I hope they don’t forget about our friendship.”

As time went on, the girls’ protectiveness morphed into something more intense. Karina, in particular, seemed to take it upon herself to ensure you were never alone. She would often show up unannounced, dragging you along to her favorite cafes or insisting on watching movies together.

“Why don’t you just move in with me?” she suggested one evening, her tone light but her eyes serious. “It would be easier for me to take care of you.”

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. “Karina, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Not at all!” she insisted, her smile unwavering. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. You mean a lot to me now.”

The other members echoed her sentiments, each one vying for your attention in their own way. Winter would text you constantly, asking about your day, while Giselle would leave little notes in your locker, reminding you to take breaks.

It wasn’t long before you began to notice the subtle changes in their behavior. The way they looked at you, the way they spoke—it was as if they were all vying for your affection, and it made you uneasy.

One night, as you sat in the living room with the girls, you overheard a conversation that sent chills down your spine.

“I can’t believe he chose to save Karina,” Winter said, her voice low. “What if he starts to like her more than us?”

Giselle scoffed. “He wouldn’t dare. We’ve all done so much for him. He belongs to us now.”

You felt a knot form in your stomach as you processed their words. They were becoming possessive, and the realization hit you like a freight train.

Unable to shake the feeling of dread, you decided to confront Karina about it. You found her in the practice room, stretching after a long rehearsal.

“Karina, can we talk?” you asked, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Of course! What’s on your mind?” she replied, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve noticed that things have changed since the operation. The girls… they seem really protective of me, and it’s starting to feel a bit suffocating.”

Karina’s expression shifted, a flicker of something dark crossing her features. “They just care about you. You’re important to us now.”

“I get that, but it feels like it’s more than just care. It’s like they’re trying to control me,” you admitted, your heart racing.

She stepped closer, her gaze intense. “You don’t understand. We’ve all been through so much, and you’re the reason I’m still here. We can’t lose you again.”

As the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere within the group grew increasingly tense. You felt trapped, caught between the affection of the girls and the suffocating weight of their obsession.

One evening, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. As you strolled through the quiet streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you quickened your pace.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to see Winter and Giselle approaching, their expressions unreadable.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Winter asked, her tone sharp.

“I just needed some air,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Giselle stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You shouldn’t be out alone. It’s dangerous.”

You felt a surge of frustration. “I can take care of myself!”

“Not when it comes to us,” Winter said, her voice low and dangerous. “You belong with us, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

The tension reached a breaking point when you returned to the dorm that night. The girls were gathered in the living room, their expressions a mix of concern and something darker. You could feel the weight of their gazes as you entered, and it made your skin crawl.

“Where were you?” Karina asked, her voice laced with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I just went for a walk,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “I needed some time to think.”

“Think about what?” Ningning pressed, her eyes wide with worry. “You can talk to us about anything!”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. “I just… I feel overwhelmed. I appreciate everything you all have done for me, but I need some space.”

The room fell silent, and you could feel the tension thickening in the air. Karina’s expression hardened, and you could see the flicker of anger in her eyes. “You don’t understand, do you? We’re doing this because we care about you. You’re ours now.”

“Yours?” you echoed, incredulous. “I’m not a possession!”

Winter stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to remember who saved you, who gave you a second chance. We’re the reason you’re here, and we won’t let you go.”

You felt a surge of panic as you realized the depth of their obsession. “This isn’t healthy! You can’t just control me like this!”

Giselle’s expression shifted, her smile fading. “We’re not trying to control you. We’re trying to protect you. You don’t know what’s out there.”

“Protect me from what?” you demanded, your heart racing. “From living my life?”

Karina stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “From losing you again. We can’t go through that pain. Not again.”

The confrontation left you shaken, and you spent the night tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest. The next day, you decided to confront the girls again, hoping to clear the air.

“Can we talk?” you asked, gathering your courage as you found them in the practice room.

They looked up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s wrong?” Ningning asked, her voice soft.

“I need to set some boundaries,” you said, your voice steady. “I appreciate your care, but I can’t live like this. I need to be able to make my own choices.”

Karina’s expression darkened, and you could see the tension in her shoulders. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. We’ve been through so much together. You’re part of our family now.”

“Family shouldn’t feel like a prison,” you replied, your heart racing. “I need to be able to breathe, to have my own life outside of this group.”

Winter crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “You think you can just walk away from us? After everything we’ve done for you?”

“I’m not walking away! I just want some space!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Giselle stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The atmosphere in the dorm shifted after that confrontation. The girls became even more protective, their obsession intensifying. You felt like a prisoner in your own life, unable to escape the suffocating attention.

One night, as you tried to sneak out for a breath of fresh air, you were met with a wall of resistance. Karina stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression fierce.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“I just need some air,” you replied, your voice strained.

“You can’t go out alone. It’s not safe,” she insisted, stepping closer.

“Karina, I’m not a child! I can take care of myself!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the flicker of something dangerous in her gaze. “You don’t get to make that choice. Not anymore.”

The tension reached a breaking point when you discovered that the girls had been monitoring your every move. You found your phone filled with messages from them, asking where you were and who you were with. It felt like a violation of your privacy, and it sent you into a rage.

“Why are you doing this?” you shouted, confronting them in the living room. “I can’t even have a moment to myself without you all breathing down my neck!”

Ningning looked hurt, her eyes wide. “We’re just worried about you! We care about you!”

“Caring doesn’t mean controlling!” you yelled, your heart racing. “I can’t live like this!”

Karina stepped forward, her expression fierce. “You need to understand that we’re doing this for your own good. You’re part of us now, and we won’t let anyone take you away.”

“Take me away?” you echoed, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere! I just want to live my life without feeling like I’m being watched every second!”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. You could see the hurt in their eyes, but it was overshadowed by something darker—an intensity that made your skin crawl.

Days turned into weeks, and the situation only escalated. The girls’ protectiveness morphed into something more sinister. You felt trapped, suffocated by their obsession. You decided it was time to take a stand.

“Listen, I can’t do this anymore,” you said one evening, gathering your courage as you faced them. “I need to set some boundaries. I can’t live like this.”

Karina’s expression hardened, and you could see the flicker of anger in her eyes. “You think you can just walk away from us? After everything we’ve been through?”

“I’m not walking away! I just need some space!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Winter stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The confrontation left you shaken, and you spent the night tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest. The next day, you decided to confront the girls again, hoping to clear the air.

“Can we talk?” you asked, gathering your courage as you found them in the practice room.

They looked up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s wrong?” Ningning asked, her voice soft.

“I need to set some boundaries,” you said, your voice steady. “I appreciate your care, but I can’t live like this. I need to be able to make my own choices.”

Karina’s expression darkened, and you could see the tension in her shoulders. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. We’ve been through so much together. You’re part of our family now.”

“Family shouldn’t feel like a prison,” you replied, your heart racing. “I need to be able to breathe, to have my own life outside of this group.”

Winter crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “You think you can just walk away from us? After everything we’ve done for you?”

“I’m not walking away! I just want some space!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Giselle stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The atmosphere in the dorm shifted after that confrontation. The girls became even more protective, their obsession intensifying. You felt like a prisoner in your own life, unable to escape the suffocating attention.

One night, as you tried to sneak out for a breath of fresh air, you were met with a wall of resistance. Karina stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression fierce.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“I just need some air,” you replied, your voice strained.

“You can’t go out alone. It’s not safe,” she insisted, stepping closer.

“Karina, I’m not a child! I can take care of myself!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the flicker of something dangerous in her gaze. “You don’t get to make that choice. Not anymore.”

The tension reached a breaking point when you discovered that the girls had been monitoring your every move. You found your phone filled with messages from them, asking where you were and who you were with. It felt like a violation of your privacy, and it sent you into a rage.

“Why are you doing this?” you shouted, confronting them in the living room. “I can’t even have a moment to myself without you all breathing down my neck!”

Ningning looked hurt, her eyes wide. “We’re just worried about you! We care about you!”

“Caring doesn’t mean controlling!” you yelled, your heart racing. “I can’t live like this!”

Karina stepped forward, her expression fierce. “You need to understand that we’re doing this for your own good. You’re part of us now, and we won’t let anyone take you away.”

“Take me away?” you echoed, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere! I just want to live my life without feeling like I’m being watched every second!”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. You could see the hurt in their eyes, but it was overshadowed by something darker—an intensity that made your skin crawl.

The days that followed were filled with an oppressive silence. The girls were still around you, but the atmosphere had shifted. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. It was as if a storm was brewing, and you were caught in the eye of it.

One evening, you decided to take a stand. You gathered your courage and confronted Karina in the living room, where she was sitting alone, scrolling through her phone.

“Karina, we need to talk,” you said, your voice steady despite the anxiety churning in your stomach.

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “About what?”

“About how things have been between us. I can’t keep living like this. I feel trapped,” you admitted, your heart racing.

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the flicker of anger in her gaze. “Trapped? You think we’re trying to trap you? We’re trying to protect you!”

“Protect me from what? From living my life?” you shot back, frustration boiling over. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I need to be able to breathe!”

Karina stood up, her posture tense. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. We’ve all been through so much together. You’re part of our family now.”

“Family shouldn’t feel like a prison,” you replied, your voice rising. “I need to be able to make my own choices!”

The confrontation escalated quickly. The other members, hearing the commotion, entered the room, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

“What’s going on?” Winter asked, her brow furrowed.

“Just a little disagreement,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm.

Karina shot you a glare. “It’s more than that. He thinks he can just walk away from us after everything we’ve done for him.”

“Walk away?” Ningning echoed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t just leave us! We care about you!”

“I know you care, but this isn’t healthy!” you shouted, your frustration boiling over. “I can’t live like this!”

Giselle stepped forward, her expression serious. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the weight of their gazes on you. It was as if they were all waiting for you to back down, to give in to their demands. But you couldn’t do that anymore.

“I’m not asking for much,” you said, your voice steady. “I just want some space. I want to be able to make my own choices without feeling like I’m being watched every second.”

Karina stepped closer, her expression fierce. “You need to understand that we’re doing this for your own good. You’re part of us now, and we won’t let anyone take you away.”

“Take me away?” you echoed, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere! I just want to live my life without feeling like I’m being controlled!”

The confrontation left you shaken, and you spent the night tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest. The next day, you decided to confront the girls again, hoping to clear the air.

“Can we talk?” you asked, gathering your courage as you found them in the practice room.

They looked up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s wrong?” Ningning asked, her voice soft.

“I need to set some boundaries,” you said, your voice steady. “I appreciate your care, but I can’t live like this. I need to be able to make my own choices.”

Karina’s expression darkened, and you could see the tension in her shoulders. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. We’ve been through so much together. You’re part of our family now.”

“Family shouldn’t feel like a prison,” you replied, your heart racing. “I need to be able to breathe, to have my own life outside of this group.”

Winter crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “You think you can just walk away from us? After everything we’ve done for you?”

“I’m not walking away! I just want some space!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Giselle stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The atmosphere in the dorm shifted after that confrontation. The girls became even more protective, their obsession intensifying. You felt like a prisoner in your own life, unable to escape the suffocating attention.

One night, as you tried to sneak out for a breath of fresh air , you were met with a wall of resistance. Karina stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression fierce.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“I just need some air,” you replied, your voice strained.

“You can’t go out alone. It’s not safe,” she insisted, stepping closer.

“Karina, I’m not a child! I can take care of myself!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Her eyes narrowed, and you could see the flicker of something dangerous in her gaze. “You don’t get to make that choice. Not anymore.”

The days turned into a blur of tension and unease. You felt the walls closing in around you, and the girls’ obsession was suffocating. You decided it was time to confront them all together, to lay everything on the table.

“Can we all sit down and talk?” you asked one evening, your heart pounding in your chest.

The girls exchanged glances but eventually nodded, gathering in the living room. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say.

“I can’t keep living like this,” you began, your voice steady. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but this isn’t love. It feels like control, and I can’t handle it anymore.”

Karina’s expression hardened, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. “You think we’re trying to control you? We’re trying to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “From living my life? From making my own choices?”

Winter stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

The confrontation escalated quickly, and you could feel the tension in the air thickening. The girls were no longer just protective; they were becoming possessive, and it terrified you.

“Do you really think we would let you go?” Giselle asked, her tone icy. “You’re ours now. You belong to us.”

You felt a surge of panic. “I’m not a possession! I’m a person with my own life!”

Ningning looked hurt, her eyes wide with disbelief. “But we care about you! We just want to keep you safe!”

“Caring doesn’t mean controlling!” you yelled, your heart racing. “I can’t live like this!”

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and you could feel the weight of their gazes on you. It was as if they were all waiting for you to back down, to give in to their demands. But you couldn’t do that anymore.

“I’m not asking for much,” you said, your voice steady. “I just want some space. I want to be able to make my own choices without feeling like I’m being watched every second.”

Karina stepped closer, her expression fierce. “You need to understand that we’re doing this for your own good. You’re part of us now, and we won’t let anyone take you away.”

“Take me away?” you echoed, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere! I just want to live my life without feeling like I’m being controlled!”

The confrontation left you shaken, and you spent the night tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest. The next day, you decided to confront the girls again, hoping to clear the air.

“Can we talk?” you asked, gathering your courage as you found them in the practice room.

They looked up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. “What’s wrong?” Ningning asked, her voice soft.

“I need to set some boundaries,” you said, your voice steady. “I appreciate your care, but I can’t live like this. I need to be able to make my own choices.”

Karina’s expression darkened, and you could see the tension in her shoulders. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for. We’ve been through so much together. You’re part of our family now.”

“Family shouldn’t feel like a prison,” you replied, your heart racing. “I need to be able to breathe, to have my own life outside of this group.”

Winter crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “You think you can just walk away from us? After everything we’ve done for you?”

“I’m not walking away! I just want some space!” you shouted, frustration boiling over.

Giselle stepped forward, her voice low and dangerous. “You need to understand that we won’t let you go. Not now, not ever.”

[rose24207]

Heyyy!

I wanted to request a Lando x reader fic where the reader has been falling into her winter depression again and just sort of feels nothing and Lando helps her get out of it. with angst and some fluff x

I love you Lando fics btw they’re so good💗

Winter depression

Summary: Lando helps his girlfriend navigate the numbness of her winter depression with patience, love, and small acts of care, reminding her she’s never alone even in her darkest moments.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: winter depression

A/N: I relate sm to this honestly. The only difference is that I don’t have someone who helps me out of these winter depression:( anyways!!

English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The days grew shorter, the nights longer. The world outside your window had turned cold and gray, mirroring the numbness that had settled deep in your chest. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had started—maybe it was the chill in the air, or the way the holidays seemed to amplify the loneliness you felt.

Lando noticed before you said a word.

“Y/N,” he murmured one evening as you sat curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the television. “You’ve barely spoken today. What’s going on?”

You shrugged, not even glancing his way. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His gentle but firm tone made your chest tighten. You didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to burden him with the heaviness you couldn’t even put into words. But Lando was persistent.

“Love, talk to me,” he said, sitting beside you and taking your hands in his. “You’ve been distant for days. Is it work? Family? Something I’ve done?”

His concern only made the ache worse. You shook your head, tears burning at the edges of your vision. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

“It’s not nothing,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Is it... like before? Last winter?”

His question hit home, and you nodded, your voice breaking as you whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Lando. I just feel... empty. Like nothing matters, and I can’t shake it.”

Lando’s arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you close as you finally let the tears fall.

The following days were quiet. Lando didn’t push you to talk but stayed close, watching you carefully. He knew how this worked—you’d been here before, and he’d been there with you. He wasn’t going to let you fall alone.

He started small. Opening the curtains in the morning to let in the weak winter sunlight. Bringing you a cup of tea just the way you liked it. Sitting beside you in comfortable silence, his hand resting on yours.

On one particularly bleak morning, he coaxed you out of bed with the promise of pancakes. “Come on, love. They’re your favorite, with extra syrup.”

You hesitated but followed him into the kitchen, where he’d somehow managed to burn the first batch. His sheepish grin made you smile—just a little, but it was enough for him to notice.

“There it is,” he said softly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “There’s my girl.”

One afternoon, Lando insisted you go for a walk. You resisted at first, but he was unrelenting. “Just a quick one,” he said, holding your coat out for you. “Fresh air will do you good.”

The park was quiet, the trees bare and the ground dusted with frost. Lando kept his arm around your shoulders, occasionally pointing out something to make you smile—a dog bounding through the snow, a child struggling to build a snowman.

“Do you remember when we had that snowball fight last year?” he asked, grinning at the memory. “You cheated.”

“I did not,” you muttered, though your lips twitched.

“You totally did,” he teased. “You tackled me to the ground and stuffed snow down my jacket.”

The memory brought a genuine laugh to your lips, and Lando’s smile widened. “There she is,” he said again, his tone warm and affectionate.

One evening, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the dark sky. Lando joined you, a blanket draped over his shoulders as he handed you a mug of hot chocolate.

“You know it’s okay to feel this way, right?” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence.

You looked at him, tears welling in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel okay.”

He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. But you’re not alone, Y/N. You’ve got me. Whatever it takes, however long it takes—I’ll be here.”

The sincerity in his eyes, the unwavering love in his voice, made the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crumble.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

Little by little, the numbness began to fade. Lando’s patience and love pulled you out of the darkness, reminding you that even in the coldest winters, warmth could be found.

By the time the first signs of spring arrived, you felt more like yourself again. And as you sat with Lando on the same park bench where he’d made you laugh on that frosty afternoon, you realized how grateful you were to have him by your side.

“You saved me,” you said softly, leaning against him.

He shook his head, his arm around your shoulders. “You saved yourself. I just reminded you how strong you are.”

With Lando, you knew you could face anything—even the darkest winters.

Thank you for reading!

[genderless-naper]

love that makes you sick

trafalgar law x gf!reader, established relationship

lowercase intended !

fluff, sfw, word count: 2.1k

an argument leaves law looking for you out in a blizzard where he might catch a cold

the white cast the snow left on the new found island made it one of the prettiest islands you’ve seen. the submarine was docked at the shore. everyone was busying themselves with tasks such as restocking inventory, buying food, cleaning up, and so on. everyone had to finish chores before they can explore the town and island, as per captains usual orders.

you were busy with your usual task of taking count of medical supplies. you were organizing the pill drawer when law walks into the room. you greeted him with a smile which he looked past on. you noticed the tattooed figured man was looking more tense than usual. this raised a concern for you, “is everything okay baby? you look more than usually stressed.”

he looks at you and holds his hand out, “i need the inventory sheet. you did the counts wrong last time.” this was the first he’s told you of this problem, “i did the counts wrong? no im sure didn’t. if they were wrong then why didn’t you say anything about it last time..?”

law takes the sheet, and response as he skims through what you’ve written down, “i didn’t notice i was out of gauze until shaichi decided it was a good idea to see how fast he can hit a knife between his fingers” law rubs his temples as he remembers the predicament.

you shook your head, “i’m certain i did them right! its not my fault the crew members decide to test their luck with playing with knives” you responded with a bit of attitude as you rolled you eyes. law tried his best to stay neutral. he picked up the job he decided you were unable to do. you wouldn’t sit around and be blatantly told you didnt know how to do something you’ve always been tasked with doing. you grab the sheet back and continue from where you left off.

you can feel his gaze piercing you as you try your best to hold your composure.

“y/n-ya i can do them myself. just give them to me.” he says in a more stern tone. you shook your head, “i refused to believe i messed up!”

“im not going to go back and forth with y-“

you interrupt law by shushing him. he looked at you in disbelief. he wasn’t expecting you to literally shush him like he was a child. in no world would law believe that he, as a captain, would be shushed at by his subordinate.

to ease the tension in the air you try talking about the new island. you asked questions to which you received no response. after your fourth question you were fed up with his lack of responses and turned back towards him.

this time he had a look of anger he tried (and failed) to hide. he passively made a remark, “maybe if you werent so hardheaded and actually listened sometimes i wouldnt have so many issues in the medical room.”

you were taken aback from his sudden statement, but refused to let him have the upper hand in the conversation, “maybe if you weren’t so prideful and actually communicated what you needed instead of expecting me to read your mind you wouldn’t be fussing so hard right now!”

law raised a brow. it wasnt unlike you to fire back remarks. he’d seen it with the crew members when you’d all have disagreements, but he’d never expected them to be aimed at him. with his irritation growing by the second he took back the sheet, “go help someone else. i need to be the one who does the jobs in the medical room so i can know theyre done correctly.”

you scoff, “done correctly?? fine then! im leaving and exploring at the island. have fun being cooped up by yourself!” you pushed past your boyfriend, and exited the room without looking back at him.

you put on your winter gear knowing it would be a little chilly out, and headed out to explore the unknown. you walked through the town and into the meadow. snow capped mountains and sheets of paper white snow with blades of grass peaking through were visible to the eye. you noticed snowflakes scatter the sky and they fell. soon after though there seemed to be an influx of snowflakes falling. the wind’s gusts were picking up as well. you admired the scenery unaware of a possible snow storm heading your way.

on the submarine law was busying himself with your tasks. he didn’t know what came over him when he spoke with you. maybe it was the built up stress, maybe it was having to police the crew mates from fighting, or maybe he was just cranky because he missed being with you. nonetheless he still pushed you away. he figured it was at least good for you to get a break. he made mental note to apologize to you once you were back.

he continued through the tasks while making minimal progress. with every mistake he made he remembered how he’d seen you do them routinely since you joined his crew. truth be told you probably did it better than him, but thats something he would never admit out loud. he decided to take a break and go out to see if the crew had finished their tasks.

some were still working on their chores, and some were no where to be seen. law knew it had been a while since you left so he asked the crew if you had come back yet. ikkaku shook her head and penguin replied, “y/n went left a few hours ago. wouldn’t speak to us. she seemed kinda mad i guess?”

at that moment shachi runs into the room, “did you guys seen the snow outside?! its like a blizzard! its so cool!”

law was taken aback, “a blizzard?? are you sure y/n is still out there? you didn’t see her come back at all?” worry slowly creeped up the captains chest. the thought of you being out in the snow storm alone tortured him. he didn’t want to think about the possibility of you getting sick or hurt.

shachi shook his head, “i couldn’t see anyone out there captain” the concern was too much for the tattooed man to handle anymore. he made sure alert the crew to be on watch for your arrival. he headed out into the snow fall with urgency. he only made one mistake: he left without any proper clothing or gear to protect him against the harsh weather. the only thought on his mind was to find you and make sure you were safe. being cold was the least of his worries.

he hastily traveled through town in search of you. he called out your name and looked everywhere. he was left standing in front a cafe with lights on and smoke escaping its chimney. a man on the inside saw law standing in the snow fall. he opened the door and called out for him, “what are you doing out in this storm?! get in here before it carries you away!”

law ignored the man and continued to look around in search of you. the man yelled out urging him to once again take cover inside the building. the tattooed man looks at the building once more just to find a glimpse of you through the window sitting at a table.

relief flooded him like a wave. he just couldn’t contain himself. he decided to shambles his way into the cafe. you jump at his sudden appearance, “oh baby you scared me! what are you doing out in the snow? uh.. why aren’t you wearing a jacket..?”

your boyfriend looked as cold as a brick of ice. he hadn’t notice the dangerous cold outside until he was hit with heat from the cafe that hugged him like a heated blanket. you urged him to sit down, and put your jacket over his shoulders. you put your gloves on him and placed your hot cocoa in front of him, “law you look like a mess..”

you ruffled snow off his hat and examined his face which was a shade of pink due to the harsh cold. especially the tips of his ears and nose. he held your hands tight in fear that you’d slip away from him again. he spoke so quiet that barely you could hear, “i’m really sorry y/n. i’m just glad you’re okay. i don’t know what i would have done with myself if you got hurt out there. i shouldn’t have made you leave like that…”

you squeezed his hands with a sigh, “i’m okay darling. you’re the one thats not okay. you’re bound catch a cold. it was so reckless of you to leave the submarine like it was 90 degrees. look, your nose is already running!”

you grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped your poor boyfriends nose. you couldn’t help but feel bad for his current state.

he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you tight. your body felt like a heater against his ice cold state. he buried his face into your neck for the added warmth. he stayed like this until the snow storm blew down.

you both made your way back to the polar tang. once inside law immediately pulls you towards your shared bedroom. the whole way back to the submarine he was a coughing sneezing mess. it wasn’t surprising to see he got a cold.

you urged your sick boyfriend into bed but he refused to without you. you huffed, “look who’s the hardheaded one that doesn’t listen now” you huffed as you referenced the original conversation that started this whole mess.

your boyfriend shook his head and held your hand, “i want you to be in bed with me at least..” he stared at the ground to avoid eye contact. his pink tipped ears poking through his black ruffled hair. it was unlike him to be so straightforward when talking to you about what he wanted. maybe the recent events gave him a change of heart.

nonetheless you guided him into bed and pulled the blanket up to cover him, “let me bring you some tea, okay baby? ill be right back” you tell him and you stroke his hair. the tattooed man looks away from embarrassment and tries to put on his cool act again, “i’m fine y/n. go help the others with chores”

you giggled at his attempt to recover his stoic facade, “my chore now is to take care of my idiot boyfriend who doesn’t think when stepping out into snow storms”

you lean down and press a soft kiss onto his lips. its the kind of kiss that leaves law yearning for more. it was the kind of kiss that could comfort the sickest person. your soft lips pressing against his repeats in his mind as you leave to bring him tea and medicine. you spend the rest of the night taking care of him and then being dragged back into bed to cuddle with him. you lost track of how many tissues you’d have to use for your sick boyfriend, but theres nothing you’d rather do than be the one to take care of him especially when he’s the one to take care for you.

not once does he loosen his arms which are wrapped around you. he refuses to let you slip away from him again. it was a mistake he would never do twice. he just avoided eye contact. you smiled at how vulnerable your boyfriend was able to be with you today. how his walls were as low as you’ve ever seen them be. you couldn’t help but feel so lucky to be loved by this man knowing no other person will experience law the way you get to experience him at that moment.

“hey baby..?” you spoke softly to him. he hums as he looks at you with a slightly tired expression. you cup his cheeks and lean in for another kiss; this time more passionate and deeper than before. law has a slight grip on your hips as he eases into your kiss. he never wants it to end. he pulls you closer, and as you try to separate from the kiss he just continues on by kissing down your jaw and to your neck. you giggle at his loving demeanor and stroke his hair. he nuzzles his head into your neck, and secures you to him to make sure you wont be able to slip away in the night. your warmth like sweet nectar to him.

[onyourowndaisymae]

when solomon falls in love

content + warnings: solomon x reader, angst with a happy ending, there is a deep sadness within solomon but i can fix him, minor discussions of s3 plot points // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

the day solomon realizes he's in love with you is the worst day of his life, he thinks, in the first moment he realizes.

solomon's had a lot of terrible days. from simple ones-- caught in the rain, misplaced keys, harsh words spoken by people he cares about-- to life-altering, fate-changing hellish days. he's been around for centuries, and admittedly conjured himself up some pretty shitty karma. this day, however, tops the list.

because the moment solomon realizes he's in love with you is the moment he realizes he'll never have you.

it's a rare moment the both of you are sharing. the two of you are alone in a coffee shop in some quaint corner of the human realm. your trials with the sorcerer society have been wearing on you, so solomon saw it fitting to sweep his adorable little apprentice away for some well-deserved down time.

it's dawn here. sunlight peaks through the clouds, painting the gray skies a vibrant orange through the shop's large windows. the sunlight tickles your cheekbones, occasionally catching your eyes and making them flutter as you dodge the blinding sunbeams. how long has it been since solomon's seen you in the daylight? the devildom is beautiful, but it's dark and dim during all hours of the day. he's used to seeing you under city lights, shop signs and advertisements in neon colors dancing across your features. or under the warm-but-artificial house lights in all the buildings down there, cozy but not quite the same. no, you look best in daylight. golden, pure daylight, trickling through the cosmos just so he can see every detail on your face.

he wants to memorize you. he wants to etch your features into his brain so that he'll be able to remember you far into the future. the coming days are uncertain. licensure into the sorcerer's society is not exactly easy-- you'll have your work cut out for you if you continue down this path. maybe somewhere along the way you'll find yourself content instead with a simple life in the human realm, shedding the devildom like a winter coat in spring when your life begins a new chapter. he's always worried about you, about losing you, about a day when you'll bid him goodbye for good. obsessive? he likes to think of it as "sentimental". and he's never been this sentimental for anyone else but you.

you take a sip of your drink with a small smile. it's cold outside, the subtle chill of autumn beginning to fade into the biting cold of winter. the drink in your hands is warm, and you cup it between your between your palms for warmth. he smiles. his own drink is smooth and a little bitter. solomon he grabs the last sugar packet from the center of the table and dumps it in, swirling the mixture around the distribute the sweetness. then he folds the trash into a compact ball. there's a dink! as he flicks it at you, hitting your cheek gently before it falls onto the table. you laugh at his antics. it's the best sound he's ever heard.

"gotcha."

"what are you, seven?"

"you're just mad i have good aim."

"yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. do... do you mind if i ask you a question?"

"anything."

you proceed to ask him how he found this place. technically, it's not even in the country you're from... he laughs and explains how he found it. he likes when your attention is focused all in on him. your eyes get this certain glint to them as you listen, like he's the only person you care about in that moment. he'd kill to see that look anywhere else-- could you imagine the faces of the demon brothers should you look at him so attentively around them?

solomon swallows down the lump of jealousy rising in his throat. that's the thing. you don't look at him like that in front of anyone else.

his next sip of coffee tastes bitter, more so than before-- he can't blame the shop, nor the sugar packet for the taste, but instead the acid creeping up his throat from the mere displeasure of the idea. it's so very solomon to ruin his own good time with a nasty thought.

why?

why does he do this to himself? to cherish something so delicate even though he knows it will shatter under the weight of life's circumstances?

that's because solomon's in love with you. and love doesn't always listen to reason.

he has toyed around with the idea of loving you for awhile. he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to always be the petulant, lost child he once was, always reaching for things he was never destined to have. when he was young, he craved freedom. as an adult, power. and now, further along in his life, he wants you.

you seem to notice the sour look on his face. your eyebrows furrow as you ask him what's wrong. it's instinct that guides him to brush you off, to give you a big smile and feign attention into whatever you begin talking about next.

does he deserve you? probably not. his sins probably outweigh that of any lower demon. he's lied and cheated, fucked people over in ways unimaginable to someone like you. you're a blank slate, a clean ledger, yet to ruin your own life. or maybe you won't. you've always been better than him that way.

will he ever distance himself to heal from the wounds of unrequited love? probably not. he'll stick by your side as you inevitably choose one of the demon brothers or angels or royals over him-- he won't blame you. of all the fascinating people you've met, he understands the allure of a human like him is dim in comparison. no hard feelings. he can't ever seem to muster up anything sour towards you.

"are you listening?" you finally ask, loud enough to grab his attention. he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"sorry. i'm... a bit scatterbrained today. what were you saying?"

you huff. "i was telling you a story, but i bent my straw too far and it broke."

you bend it again to show him the damage. sure enough, it's snapped under the weight of your fidgeting. solomon's lips curl into a sympathetic pout.

"i can grab you another."

"nah, it's okay. i've got it."

you rise from your seat and walk to the counter of the coffee place. solomon takes a deep breath and steals his resolve. all this self-loathing and pining is making him a bad friend, and you deserve much better than to talk to a brick wall. he sighs. so what if he's in love with you? so what if he's lost in the tumult of his own feelings? he needs to get it together and enjoy this time with you before you return to the devildom, and he has to share you aga--

"excuse me?"

"yes? how can i help you?"

"can i get another straw? oh, and can i get some more of those little sugar packets? my boyfriend used the last one on the table."

"of course! give me one moment--"

...

what?

his brain almost completely shuts down hearing those words leave your lips. he subtly looks around to see if anyone else is in the coffee shop-- there's a man in the corner reading his paper and two teenagers huddled over iced coffee. no, none of them are at your table, using the last sugar packet like he did, your boyfriend--

"close your mouth. you're attracting flies," you say quietly, sliding a few sugar packets over to him.

he's... flabbergasted, honestly. during the entirety of his downward spiral, never once did he anticipate this outcome. you... you wanted him?

his lips pull into a smirk-- it's more of a grin than he wanted, but he just can't help himself right now. he's damn near giddy at your indirect confession.

"boyfriend? you wouldn't happen to be referring to me, would you?"

"that's why you brought me here, right?"

that question catches him off-guard. honestly, no. he just wanted some time to breathe with you, without obligations or demons ready to pounce for your attention. but the way your lips curl around the straw between them makes his heart race.

"... and if i did?"

"then i would say this is a pretty good date spot. now, pay attention when i talk, old man."

as attentive as he aims to be, he just can't stop his mind from wandering. you're his. all of the fear and angst wash away as the sun shines brightly on your table, illuminating the delicate wood grain beneath his trembling fingers. and for once, solomon doesn't worry about what will happen if he lets himself love you.

maybe this day isn't so bad after all.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset

[starkitxxz]

Apricity

(noun) The warmth of the sun in winter

Sol x gn!reader

Day 2 spoilers!

I HAD TO RECHECK EVERY PARAGRAPH FOR THIS AND IM PROBABLY GOING TO MAKE PART 2 ONCE I GET PROPER SLEEP

ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE <33

(Thank you for the votes in the poll btw i love yalll😚😚)

Word count: 1.5k+

“It’s covered in snow,” Sol’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the rooftop covered in a pile of fluffy snow, despite the sun emitting light above. He adjusted his scarf while Hyugo rubbed his chin, pondering whether or not they should return inside.

However, they didn’t want to hang out in the cafeteria.

Loud noises and huge crowds were something Sol disliked greatly. No matter how snuggly the room is because of the heater, Hyugo wants his best friend to feel comfortable. He's Sol’s only best friend.

“We can just sweep it off from the bench,” Hyugo suggested as he approached their usual spot, brushing the flakes of snow away with his gloved hands.

You and Sol stood there, hesitating whether or not you both want to sit on the bench around the cold, snow filled area. As much as you don’t want to stay and possibly succumb to hypothermia, your stomach growled in hunger. You don’t have a choice, unless you want to witness another possible food fight happening in the cafeteria.

And neither did Sol want to witness that.

“Are you two going to stand there or eat?” Hyugo asks as he grows impatient, wanting to munch on Sol’s lunch that he made for him, just like what Sol promised… Since Hyugo (purposely) forgot his lunch.

You both sat beside each other next to Hyugo. You shiver from how cold it is, despite wearing the coziest accessory you can find. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep you warm, due to the fact that you forgot your scarf at your apartment.

Maybe if you searched through your closet once more, you will find something warmer than a scarf.

Sol on the other hand, opened his lunch box. Your mouth watered at the sight of his meal, and you were not the only one admiring it.

“Sunny! Why didn’t you tell me you made these?” Hyugo’s eyes lit up in delight, ready to fill his starving stomach.

Delicious small chocolate chip brownies adorned with a strawberry each and white icing sat on his container. Carefully made into perfection, displaying a scrumptious treat before you.

You took notice of the strawberries representing cute Santa hats, judging from the little icing on top.

Hyugo reached out to take one, earning a glare from Sol, but he let him do so.

He nibbled on the treat, and a satisfied ‘Mmm’ came out of his mouth.

Sol’s eyes widen slightly in surprise as Hyugo takes another brownie.

“Mmm, [reader] you should try it! It’s so good!” Hyugo said as he swallowed his first brownie, proceeding to nibble on the second one.

Curious, you take one from the container and try it, holy shit.

You can taste the chocolatey goodness from the brownie, as well as the ripe sweetness of the strawberry. It melted in your mouth as you chewed it.

“Sol, this is delicious!” You praised, taking another portion from the lunchbox. You can’t help but wonder, how does he manage to make his lunch so mouthwatering?

It was like he has been training for years to cook irresistibly appetizing treats. Cut and cooked perfectly like the carrots for homemade curry that one night. It was so scrumptious.

You can’t seem to remember much from that moment, but you definitely need to take cooking notes from him.

Hyugo took 2 brownies and munched on them, like a little kid feasting on sugary cookies that had been left for Santa to eat.

Sol grabbed one for himself and bit on his creation, pleased by what he made when he couldn’t sleep earlier. He made sure it’s all perfect and appetizing for you.

And why can't he earn enough rest for himself? He was busy stalking you.

“Mm, not bad,” He mumbled as he savored the sweet and acidic taste of the strawberry.

Not much time has passed and the container is already empty. The cold breeze was hitting your skin once more. You turned your gaze to Hyugo, eating the last piece of the chocolate chip brownie.

“You should really make more of these,” Hyugo said with food in his mouth, eventually swallowing it.

“So you can eat off my budget?”

“Hey, I have duties, you know?” Hyugo frowned

“Whatever” Sol packed his lunch box and sighed, his attention focused on you as you drank your water bottle.

“If you brought those for the winter party, I would finish it all.” You said with a grin, holding the nearly empty plastic water bottle in your gloved hand.

Hyugo nodded, “I agree, It’s a great snack for us and the guests!”

You know he will make the best Christmas themed brownies for the party. A little persuading won’t hurt. After all, you love what he cooks and bakes.

“Please Sol? I will really appreciate it and you know I can’t resist your delicious treats”

A sigh escaped Sol’s mouth, complying to your wishes. He will never deny you and your cravings for food. He loves to make food for you.

He’d do anything for you.

Anything. For his one and only soulmate.

Another gust of cool air made contact with your skin, a cold and numbing sensation filled you.

You looked up and saw soft hail falling from the gray skies above. Amidst the cloudy skies and snowfall, the luminous sun remained shining. A fascinating phenomenon.

You reached a hand out, catching a snowflake in your palm.

“It’s snowing again,” Hyugo uttered as he looked up as well

Sol stared at the snowy view of cities, roads, and cars. Sidewalks covered with a pile of snow, street lamps filling the town with warm light, and local stores selling candy canes and gingerbread cookies.

It all made you homesick, hoping to celebrate and experience Christmas with your family. Maybe one day, you’ll finally pay off their debt.

A snowflake landed on Sol’s lap, shaped beautifully and remarkably unique. As more snow piled up, your teeth began to chatter from the freezing temperature. Looks like you’re gonna need an extra layer of clothes and scarves soon.

Unexpectedly, soft black fabric wrapped around your torso. A wave of warmth fueled your body, keeping you safe from the bitterly cold weather.

You glance at your side and to your surprise, Sol turns his head away from you. His face flushed as his body tensed from the generous act he did. Hyugo gave you both a side-eye, deciding to stay quiet.

He found it too cheesy.

“Thank you, you really don’t have to thou-”

Sol cut you off, “No, I insist,” facing you with a gentle smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, keep it if you like” a smile appeared on his face, his red-orange eyes gazing at you lovingly.

You catched a whiff of his cologne from the jacket he offered, a scent that made you feel so comfortable. You can’t help but wish to smell it again–

Puff.

An audible soft puff was heard from the snowball thrown at Sol’s cheek by the blue haired guy. A playful grin on his face as another snowball is thrown directly at your face, hitting your temple.

Hyugo earned a piercing glare from Sol, before he stood up and knelt on one knee. Gathering a clump of snow, forming it into a snowball.

Hyugo immediately knew what he was about to do, so then he announced:

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

At the rooftop, you decided to join them, hitting both Sol and Hyugo with snowballs. Although, you were met with the cold and stinging sensation of snow as they threw snow at you as well.

Sol and Hyugo threw clumps of snow at each other, and you were on Sol’s side. Hyugo frowned at the unfair setup against him, balls of snow hitting his face and clothes. Luckily no one is going to scold anyone here on the rooftop.

The game did not last as the teacher found you, Sol, and Hyugo on the rooftop, throwing snowballs at each other.

Unlucky you, accidentally throwing one at the teacher themself. Guaranteed a pass to the principal’s office.

Yet, at the end of the day, the trio skipped their next class and drank warm hot chocolate at a cozy cafe nearby.

You kept the jacket on the way home, and whenever you would try to give it back to Sol, he insisted. "Keep it to stay warm," he said.

In reality, he desires to see you sleep with it whenever he visits you at midnight.

[BONUS]

“Ugh, why is it so cold?” Brittney complained as she rubbed both of her arms, earning the temporary heat of friction.

Her sweater was folded neatly on the table, stained with fresh mushroom soup from the food fight earlier. Damn it, she muttered. Cursing that one random dude for causing this.

“The heater might've broken down again,” a sigh escaped Crowe’s lips. “It’ll be fixed soon, I hope…”

Geo scoffed, “Yeah no, someone unintentionally threw food at it”

Crowe’s frustration grew, his brows knitted as he wore a pair of gloves

He’s right, the heater got a food blockage. Thanks to another immature idiot who kept throwing chunks of their pudding at different areas in the place. Staining the walls, floor, and students clothes

Jess sat beside Brittney and Crowe, quietly reading a book she bought a few days ago. Unbothered by the freezing temperature, the earmuffs and extra layer of clothing helped her a lot.

“I wonder where [reader] and their new friends are-”

“I SAW [READER] AND THEIR LUNCH BUDDIES ENTER THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE!” yelled Deryl as he bursted into the room, earning the attention of other students.

“WHAT?!” The group exclaimed.

To be continued…?

[snow-flkes]

snowy day w/ zayne.

pairing: zayne x reader.

word count: 441.

warnings: none, sfw.

notes: hi guys! this is my first time posting and also showing off my writing. sorry if there's anything wrong, english is not my first language. feel free to interact and rant/feedback. my reqs are open!

“You don't have to do that.” You said as you watched Zayne build a snowman. You two were out for a walk in the park when he suddenly remembered something you said ages ago about him having to build a snowman for you during winter.

“You said you wanted me to do it.” He answered simply, soft spoken as always, a faint smile on his lips.

“But that was a long time ago, I don't even know how you remembered that.” You persisted, but he simply didn't care, still working on the snowman silently.

You watched for a few more minutes, but then boredom got the best of you, and since Zayne wouldn't let you help him build the snowman, you started looking around for options. And just like that, a thought came through your mind.

With a mischievous smirk you got up from the bench and got a huge amount of snow in your hands turning it into a ball and without thinking twice you aimed in Zayne's direction throwing it hitting the back of his head.

Zayne flinched before turning to you with a shocked but serious expression.

“Aren't you a child?” You could hear a bit of tease and playfulness in Zayne's voice. With a smirk, you just got another fistful snowball throwing at his chest this time before running and giggling.

All you could hear was the rushed footsteps in the snow behind you as he tried to catch you. When you finally got to hide behind a bench, you balled up another fistful of snow before you peeked your head above the bench. All you saw was Zayne with his arms crossed on his chest like a father that just caught his child up to no good. You quickly stood up, hiding the huge snowball behind your back, and walked slowly towards him.

Standing on your tiptoes once you were centimeters away from him you leaned pretending you were going to kiss him just to smash the snowball in his head but before you could do so his hand stopped your fist mid-air. “You really think I'm that easy to fool?”

You got stunned for a second, dropping the snowball. Zayne had a small smirk on his lips as he watched you. He gently wiped snowflakes out of your hair and face before he leaned to kiss you. The kiss was needy, fervent but slow, his hands slowly caressing your neck and cheeks, pulling you even closer.

“You're so warm…” Zayne whispered against your lips before pulling away. “You shouldn't stay out in the cold for too long. Let's get inside and take a hot shower.”

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 7

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 7: praise kink. You can find all the stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(DadsFriend!Simon x virgin!reader) (Forbidden) (Age gap)

cw: oral (both receiving), cum on face, glasses kink (kinda), unprotected piv, virginity loss, creampie, multiple orgasms

word count: 3890

Summer break, that one month of the year you weren't too busy with uni exams and could actually come back home to your parents, your personal ambitions and their desire to see you succeed in life taking you away from them for the purpose of higher education, which they couldn't afford for themselves. Plus, your family always spent summer differently. No lavish beaches or fancy trips to the ocean, but up in the mountains in your cabin, relaxing away from the suffocating heat of the cities, hiking or simply lounging at home.

Your mum and dad, as always, had missed you dearly. You were their pride and joy, their little girl away on the other side of the country, studying to make a name for herself someday. It was only your first year, and you had visited often, of course, but it's hard to not miss your family, adjusting to adulthood and your newfound independence.

This summer, though, your dad had a surprise: Simon Riley. Your dad's colleague, a Lieutenant just like him, but in different divisions. You were familiar with Mr. Riley, his brown eyes had met yours for the first time at a winter ball two years ago, a few weeks after your 18th birthday. He had been a true gentleman that night, a kind heart hiding beneath the ink and the scars marring his skin. You two had chatted all night, and had even shared a cigarette by the fire exit, sneaking behind your father's back.

You'd had a flute of champagne too many, so you didn't remember about the fire burning in Mr. Riley's gaze, watching you huff out the smoke into the cold night, wearing his heavy jacket around your shoulders, your beautiful body clad in that breathtaking dress peeking under it. He knew he shouldn't have felt this way about a fellow comrade's daughter, almost 20 years her junior, but he simply couldn't help it.

So there you were, two years later, looking as beautiful as you did that night. Your hair was a little shorter, big glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, and he noticed how your face was growing more and more into its adult features, your sweet cherub cheeks looking a little more hollow, but you were still mesmerising. "Simon will spend a week here with us," your father had said. "He's going to leave for his well-deserved vacation from an airport very close to here so I offered him to stay with us for a while before I took him to catch his plane. So be on your best behaviour, alright, y/n? Don't bother Simon too much." And so, you promised to be a good girl.

The first two days, you and Simon didn't talk much, most conversation happening when your parents were also present, usually over meals, and only soft-spoken greetings were shared when your paths crossed during the silent hours of the night. You were usually reading until sunrise, while Simon simply didn't sleep at all, insomnia being his only loyal companion. The third day, you hastily walked past him on the way to your bedroom from the bathroom, damp hair cascading over your shoulders, droplets of body falling onto the wooden floorboards. He used the shower right after you, cursing himself mentally as he pumped his cock angrily under the cold spray of water, thoughts of your wet, naked body under that pink towel haunting his mind.

The fourth day, you had slept in while your parents had left for their morning hike, until a sudden storm hit, a lightning striking very close to the cabin, the thunder shaking the cabin, and you with it. Rubbing the grogginess off your heavy eyelids, you walked into an empty kitchen, apart from Simon sitting at the table, cradling a cup of tea in one hand and some book in the other. "Hey," you called out, yawning. "There's a pretty bad storm outside, do you know where my parents are?"

"Called ten minutes ago from the shelter, a pretty big tree fell onto the trail and now they have to wait 'til the storm calms and someone comes to move it. Could take all day." He hadn't peeled his eyes off the pages as he talked, but he was pretty damn grateful he did when he finally took a look at you. Hair falling over one shoulder in a messy braid, a skimpy tank top and matching short shorts that barely contained your curves, and Simon had barely any control over his filthy imagination right now. Your glasses stood on your nose a little crooked as you simply hummed, eyes still half-lidded as you approached the counter.

"Coffee? Tea?" Simon asked, the chair scraping over the floorboards as he got up. "You look in no condition to be handling fire or kitchen utensils right now, doll." The pet name had slipped past his lips a little too easily, but you were too dazed to notice. "M'yeah," you groaned, yawning again as you sat down at the table. "Coffee, pretty please." Simon nodded, immediately getting to work. He'd noticed you drank some sort of latte with vegetable milk - or something like that, he was no expert - and a dash of vanilla syrup. In just a handful of days, he had your routine memorised.

Your eyes snapped open, suddenly more attentive as Simon placed the drink in front of you, your oat latte sitting into your favourite glass, and he'd got it down to the cute little glass straw you used. Of course he knew, he hadn't been able to shake away the thought of your lips wrapped around his fat cock when they closed in on the straw. "This...thank you." you said, stirring your latte as you tried to hide your puzzled expression. "I observe people for a living, and I'm often trusted to remember and withhold a lot of important details," he explained casually, taking his seat back at the table. "It's merely a habit to learn the small things about the people I'm with."

He knew this was wrong, stealing glances from behind the pages of his book as you had your back turned to him, washing the dishes. He wondered if you knew that the contour of one of your asscheeks was faintly peeking from underneath those little shorts, the line of your waist hugged by your tank top, the braid falling over your shoulder leaving your delicious-looking neck exposed. He knew he shouldn't have gotten up from his chair again, his arm grazing your lower back as he reached for the cigarettes on the counter. He shouldn't have asked "Want one? Your parents are out anyway", and you totally shouldn't have said "yes".

You opened the window in the kitchen, just a crack to let the smoke out, but the raging storm and howling wind outside still made you shiver, hugging your arms close to your chest as you smoked. Simon noticed, of course, and balanced his cigarette on the rim of the plastic cup you were using as a makeshift ashtray, walking to the guest room to fetch a sweatshirt for you. You murmured a sweet "thank you", doing the same thing he did with his cigarette as you slid it over your shoulders, exposing a bit of your stomach as you flexed your arms, and he inwardly missed being able to peek at your cleavage. Still, just like that night at the ball, the sight of you in his clothes stirred something in him- something primal.

"How's that place for nerds you're going to, anyway? Your dad couldn't stop chewing my bloody ear off about you moving out for two whole months." You scoffed, huffing out a faint grey cloud. "I 'spose it's alright," you shrugged. "People are nice, I really like the environment and I'm pleased with what I've studied and of my results so far." Simon hummed, cradling the white stick between his long fingers. "Bet you got a line of boys, eh?" He asked, hoping you wouldn't notice his sneaky attempt at figuring if you had a boyfriend or not. "Nope, no such thing," you replied truthfully. "Wanted to focus on my studies, and it took a lot more time than I had expected to get adjusted to the new lifestyle." You tossed the cigarette into the plastic cup, making a faint sizzling sound as it fell into the water you had filled the bottom with. "Plus, half the guys there look like they don't know what a girl looks like."

Simon mirrored your action, casually leaning with his hip against the counter, watching you basically drown in his sweatshirt. "Ain't that right." He mused, his voice a borderline growl as he shamelessly let his eyes rake over your body. "I'm sure they wouldn't know what to do with you if you gave them the chance." Your eyes snapped up at him, your heart stuttering in your chest, his words and the sultry tone he used stirring something unfamiliar down in your belly. You awkwardly tried to laugh it off. "I mean," you chuckled. "I barely even kissed anybody, that lame, pseudo French kiss Sam from History class gave me when I was 17 was the most romance I had in my life."

His gaze darkened at the revelation, your purity making him feel even more guilty about his thoughts, but it was like you had poured straight gasoline onto an open flame, and now all Simon wanted to do was to ruin you. "Boys don't know a bloody thing about a woman's body," he scoffed, taking a small, almost imperceptible step towards you. "Their brain is rotten, blinded by those sad porn videos they watched, and all they can do is pathetically hump their sad dicks in their sad hands." You giggled, bringing a hand over your mouth. When you closed your eyes for a split second as you laughed, he moved closer.

"So you're saying I won't have any luck within the dating pool my university offers?" You asked, an amused glint in your gaze as you smiled up at him. "I'm saying only a man could handle you the way you need to be handled, y/n." The softness was gone from his voice, replaced by something feral, a look you'd never noticed before in his eyes, since he'd only reserved it to himself when you were looking away. By now, his imposing frame was caging you to the counter, basically forcing you to sit onto the cold granite.

You were speechless, doe-eyed gaze and parted lips, shiny with saliva, trembling with shuddering breaths. "You're like a fragile little dove now," he explained, his voice so low it rumbled in his chest. He lifted a hand to your face, rugged skin grazing your soft cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "But as soon as someone starts something as small as a spark, the fire will ignite and you'll burn uncontrollably. It takes an expert to tame a fire like that, y/n-" he leaned closer until his lips hovered only a breath above yours. "And I've been dreaming about being the one to tame you since the night I met you."

Your breath hitched, the hand cradling your face now slowly sliding down your neck, his thumb tracing the column of your throat, feeling your raging pulse resting beneath the sensitive flesh. Your mouth went suddenly dry, and you were at a complete loss for words. This man, your dad's colleague and trusted friend, had been lusting after you for nearly two years, after seeing you only once. You couldn't lie, Simon Riley held a certain charm to himself that you couldn't quite ignore. The silver scar that ran over his top lip, his slightly crooked nose, the bulging muscles that hid underneath those fitted t-shirts he always wore. Plus, how couldn't you be intrigued by the fantasy of being with a real man, someone who knows how to touch you, who would put your pleasure first, and willing to teach you how to please.

"Get on your knees, y/n." A shiver ran down your spine. "Yes, sir." You readily replied, your knees finding the rough wooden floorboards of the cabin. You moved to take off your glasses, but Simon clicked his tongue. Glasses stay on, sweetheart. I want you to be able to see my face clearly when I'm deep inside your mouth." You gulped again at his words, your eyes following his every movement as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants, pulling down his boxer briefs along with them. If you hadn't moved your head, you were sure his dick would've hit you square in the face when it sprung out, looking painfully hard, pink-reddish tip oozing pearlescent precum.

Your mouth fell agape, eliciting an amused chuckle. "Just like that, y/n. Didn't think you would pick up on that so fast." You didn't even catch his teasing words, transfixed on the sheer size of him. A bulging vein cut down his whole length,his blonde pubes shaved, balls heavily hanging below. You gingerly raised your hand, your slim fingers encircling his shaft, making him groan. "That's it, good girl. That's how you hold it." You looked up at him from behind your glasses, his tip only an inch away from your lips. "Take it in your mouth now. Don't worry, it doesn't bite, but you gotta be careful not to bite it, doll."

Slowly, you brought his dick to your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip, your tongue collecting the bead of precum from his slit. Simon released an animalistic grunt, unable to hold back now that he had you. A large hand curved around the back of your head, pushing you down. You coughed, gurgling and almost gagging at the sudden movement, but Simon held you in place. "Breathe with your nose, y/n, or else you'll choke," he instructed, his voice strained at the feel of your mouth around his cock- it was divine. "Relax your pretty throat and- good girl..." You learned fast, mainly out of survival instinct, welcoming him down your relaxed throat until his shaved pubes tickled the tip of your nose.

Being the lonely man that he was, Simon hadn't been with a woman for some time now, and certainly he hadn't been with forbidden fruit like you, angelic-looking and pure, gazing up at him with big eyes and flushed cheeks, already taking all eight inches in your mouth. He couldn't control his orgasm, a long groan arising from his throat as he came, unsheathing himself as he shot hot ropes of thick cum over your face, the lenses of your glasses now covered in white goo. His cum left a tangy, slightly salty taste on your tongue, and you were still debating whether you liked it or not. "Sorry, doll," Simon apologised, the gentleness back in his voice as he took your glasses off, placing them onto the counter. "I hope you can forgive an old man after being alone for some time. Plus, it's not everyday you meet a fast learner as good as you."

You smiled bashfully as he helped you back on your feet, your knees feeling slightly sore and itchy, covered in small scratches from being on the floor. You thought Simon was done, but you were oh so wrong when he suddenly picked you up, hand secured under your thighs as he moved you onto the table. "Told you you only needed a little spark." He murmured, before he claimed your lips into a feverish kiss, nothing like Sam from History. He tasted himself on your tongue, his cock ready for round two, twitching impatiently between the two of you. He groaned, his hand snaking down your body, his forefinger stroking your needy cunt through your shorts. "S-Simon..."

"Shit, y/n, you're fucking soaked," he said, his brown orbs gazing down at you, dark with lust. "Just from sucking my cock, you're already a mess." Your face was glowing red like a tomato, your hand wrapping around his thick forearm as he tried to reach for your shorts. "Easy, doll. I'll be gentle." He whispered, kissing the crown of your head as you loosened your grip. "Won't it hurt?" You asked meekly, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. "I'll make sure to make you love it."

You let Simon undress you, trusting him with your all - literally - as fabric gave way to skin, exposing your whole body to him. To him, you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, lands of smooth skin, the roundness of your breasts, the mouth-watering line of your waist, and those creamy thighs he couldn't wait to have wrapped around him. His sweatpants pooled at his ankles, his military green t-shirt lying on the floor next to them. He coaxed your thighs apart salivating at the sight of your slick arousal coating your folds. Simon made you lie back onto the table, his strong arms holding you in place, long fingers holding onto your hips as he feasted on your soaked pussy like a man starved.

Your sweet, sweet sound filled the kitchen, the unfamiliar stimulation making you see stars. You were mewling, his flat tongue lapping at your juices before it circled and suckled on your sensitive clit, coaxing the best noises he'd ever heard. When you were relaxed enough, he pushed in a digit, slowly stretching your weeping hole, preparing it to accommodate his fat cock, throbbing uncontrollably as your whimpers reached his ears. Your entrance was drenched, a second digit swiftly following, his fingers slowly pumping inside you with minimal resistance, just a few grimaces of discomfort making your nose wrinkle before he soothed the ache by stimulating your clit. It wasn't long before you came too, the heat pooling in your belly unravelling so fast you didn't even know your orgasm had hit until you were a squirmin mess, Simon's name falling from your lips like a prayer, your thighs squeezing his head so tight he thought he would've gladly died between your legs, the last flavour on his tongue being your cum.

He straightened his back, his lips and chin glistening with your release, a proud grin on his lips. "You taste so fucking good, y/n. Fuck, i could probably eat you for hours." He said, looking down at your figure splayed onto the table, still out of breath as you came down from your first high. You couldn't even process what had happened when Simon pulled your hips closer to the edge of the table, his tip teasing your needy entrance, collecting some of your recent release to decrease any uncomfortable friction. He also brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on his palm before he spreaded it onto his length. "Please, Simon, please..." you pleaded, biting down on your lip as you looked up at him, propped up on one elbow as he effortlessly held your legs up. "Be gentle."

"You don't have to worry, doll," he reassured you once again. "You've been so good up to now, I'm sure you'll be able to handle this as well, okay? Do you trust me, y/n?" You nodded, and that was all the confirmation he needed to push the first three inches inside. You cried out, your hands holding onto the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip. "Shh, shh, shh," he shushed you as you arched your back, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as you adjusted to the stretch. "That's it, good girl. I'm almost halfway inside, see?" You tried to look down, seeing the way your folds were wrapped around his girthy cock, your gummy walls twitching, as if they wanted - needed - to suck him deeper inside.

You took a deep breath, focusing on releasing the pressure between your hips as Simon slid in with another two inches, and then another before he bottomed out. His balls rested against your ass, and if he's not quick to compose himself, he would've come already. Your tight pussy was squeezing him impossibly tight, and it took everything in him to not start railing you like a savage, instead leaving you some time to get acquainted to the feeling of fullness inside your body. "Y-You...you can move now, Simon." You squeaked, giving him a nod of reassurance. Probably shouldn't have done that, love.

Simon began to move his hips, picking up the pace as the volume of your moans increased. Your nails clawed at his back, your legs tight around his waist as he held you close to his chest, his hungry cock pumping into your cunt so fast you felt drunk on it. "S-Simon...Simon!" You called out, hot tears of pleasure lining your eyes. "Fuck...that's it, that's a fucking good girl, y/n, you're taking my cock so good...so fucking good." The way he was groaning in your ear was making the same kind of heat stir in your lower abdomen, his praises making your self-esteem spike up.

He was fucking his friend's only daughter, fucking her stupid on the same table they all ate every meal at, marking her as his own; the rush was unmatched. He cupped one of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as his lips latched onto your erect nub. You arched into him, tipping your head back as you let yourself fall deadweight, trusting Simon's strong arm, wrapped around your waist, to hold you up; and he did. "Come on, y/n, be a good girl for me and cum one more time," he murmured, his teeth gently taking your nipple, never applying pressure. "Cum on my fucking cock, y/n, I wanna feel your cunt choke my cock and milk it dry."

His filthy words were once again your undoing, his pubes tickling your clit every time his hips collided with yours also speeding up the process, and you came again, your orgasm hitting harder than the first. It was like a wave that wrecked you, from your core then up your spine, leaving your body spasming and gasping for air as you screamed out Simon's name. You clenched around him so tight he simply couldn't pull out, a twisted need to brand you as his making him spill himself inside you, hips stuttering as a very strong orgasm hit him as well.

They should've hung it in a museum, really, the image of his cum leaking from your whole onto the table, and he felt like the whole action was borderline blasphemous, as if he had tainted the doors of Heaven. He dampened a couple of kitchen towels with some lukewarm water and cleaned you up, sliding his sweatshirt back over your head before he scooped you up in his arms and brought you back to your room, tucking you in under the covers.

He left a chaste kiss on your forehead, but he did not climb into bed with you. He never would've. He was a horrible man, who had done horrible, unspeakable things, and he had just ruined the sweetest girl, the only good flower left in his garden now wilting right before his very own eyes. He wouldn't have spoken about this ever again, he wouldn't have looked at you if you happened to stumble into base again, wouldn't have called, or asked about your life again. But he was sure about one thing: he had marked you as his, and no one would've been able to tame your fire like he did that day. 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

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You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 

“I would not,” you repeat. 

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 

“Sir Bryce--” 

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 

[junkiespromise]

you are in love | ln4

lando norris x fem!bestfriend!reader

summary: where two childhood friends start to doubt about their feelings for each other

n/a: im backkk, i missed this anyway i hope you guys like this one, i hope it makes up for the time I was missing, remember my asks are open for any request, either eras tour one shots or any type of social media au )

masterlist

Lando was finally back in England, to spend his winter break with his family and friends. The cold air hit his face as soon as he got out of his car in front of the modern apartment building his best friend lived in. A glass revolving door stood in the middle of two giant windows that revealed the inside of the building, the hall and elevators.

He impatiently waited to see her after the doors of the elevator opened, they hadn't seen each other in a while, Lando was always too busy to visit her but did try to call her at least twice a week so he could hear her voice even if it was through the phone.

— So, what time is it there in… Where is it that you are now? I forgot —

— Abu Dhabi, it's almost nine o'clock I think, what about home, it's like six right? —

— Yeah, I have to go in a bit, I have you on speaker, getting dressed for a date right now —

— A date, with? Do I know him? —

— No, I don't think so, I know him from work, his name is Derek, he is from the USA I think, anyway, he is super super sweet. You would like him —

— If you say so, anyway, where are you and this, Derek, going —

— Um, I don't know, I guess probably a pub —

— A pub, for your first date ever, could've done something a little fancier, I would've taken you to a restaurant at least —

— Well first not everyone has your economic level, do they Lando and secondly, for your information he is taking me on a date not you — she, jokingly commented

— I wish I was — Lando said, under his breath, barely a whisper, she was not able to hear him through the noise of her blow drier.

— Did you say something? —

— What? Oh no, nothing at all —

— Well, I have to leave in like ten, so, thanks for this two hours Lan, I'll see you soon, right? I hope —

— Yeah, yeah. Abu Dhabi last race of the season so, in a few days I'll fly to you —

— That is, amazing, I've missed you lots, anyway, can not wait to see you, good bye —

The call cut off, before he could get to say goodbye, Daniel who sat by his side during the final moments of their conversation laughed at him.

— Just tell her you like her mate, it ain't that hard — His teammate said smiling, he swore he saw the connection between them.

— What are you even talking about — Lando, who had denied his feelings for his best friend ever since Daniel brought it up after the Silverstone grand prix, the last time she went to one of his races and he had annoyed Lando about it after that day.

— You just keep denying your feelings mate, just don't regret it when the one who ends up with her isn't you — Daniel replied, getting up from his seat and walking out of the room after hearing Zak calling them.

— Oh shut up Daniel — Lando said walking out behind him.

✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

— So, how've you been — Lando asked her after hugging each other for a few minutes as soon as they saw each other.

— Great, lately everything has been going so good, and you? —

— Yeah? That's amazing, I'm good, kinda sad Danny's leaving though but I have the feeling he'll end up hanging 'round the grid anyway —

— Yeah, I saw that, It's really sad — she mentioned

— Okay stop, no sad stuff. We see each other after five months and get depressing, get in the car, I promised you a coffee date and I'm getting you that coffee. —

— Oh my god, yes, let's go, please — She said, excitedly, he opened the door to his car, letting her in.

— So, you're gonna make me listen to Taylor? — He asked after getting in the car, their tradition was listening to her favorite artist when he drove so Taylor Swift was constantly playing through his car's speakers.

— How is that a question, that's offensive Lando Norris — She said jokingly, her phone automatically connecting to his car's bluetooth.

— Before we, um, get going, I got you something in Brazil, hope you like it — He said and handed her a small box, finding a small silver necklace inside.

— You are kidding! Lando I love it, it's gorgeous, seriously — Her fingers traced over the necklace looking at it with adoration, the boy beside her looking at her with adoration that she could not notice — Thank you so much, you didn’t have to. —

— When I saw it I thought you might like it, I'm happy I was right —

— Okay, let me put it on and we can leave, seriously Lando I love it — She confessed, their hands touched for a second when she gave him the necklace so he could put it on her.

Y/N placed her hair on her shoulder, so he could access her neck more easily. His hands grazed the necklace, making shivers run down her spine, the warmness of her skin contrasting with the coldness of his hands.

— Okay, we should get going, right? — She said, washing away the moment

— Yeah, sure — The car engine started and his hands reached the maneuver.

— So, how have you and this guy, Derek, was it? How's it been? — He asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

— Amazing honestly, I told he was super sweet, I'm taking him as a date to that party Max is doing next month — She commented, his grip over the maneuver tightened

— Yeah? Great, that's great — His mind spun around the words Daniel had said to him the day before their last race of the year, but still he could not get himself to admit his feelings.

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yourusername late night coffee date, and a gift from my bestest friend ♡

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yourusername whenever you want to ♡

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— So, when is it starting again? — Y/N asked, straightening her hair in front of the mirror he had in his bedroom, they had a party that night planned by a friend of theirs.

— What? the party or…? —

— No, the season, when do you have to go back to traveling around the world —

— Like march or something but I think I'm gonna like do practices and stuff so I'll leave a bit earlier —

— Oh, so in like a month and a half, I'll miss you Lan — She said looking at him through the window.

— I promise I'll get you to come to more races, send you a private plane and all — He laughed walking up to her

— We should get going — Y/N said, turning around to face her friend.

— Sure, let's go —

Once already in the car, they kept chatting, Lando's eyes leaving the role for a second to look at her again, as if he could ever forget her silhouette.

— You didn't bring a date — Lando said after speaking about the party

— You didn't either, and? —

— Well I don't have anyone else to bring but you —

— Don't even lie, you have dozens of girls lining up to date you, besides we are bringing each other as a plus one —

— Yeah but I thought you would bring that guy you were talking to —

— Oh, um, we are not really talking anymore, I didn't feel much of a connection honestly — Lando didn't answer, he just looked at her, when they stopped at a red light, thousands of thoughts running through his mind at once. He prefered to stay silent this time.

— Anyway it's not that deep, not like I thought he was the love of my life but it is kind of awkward that I have to see him at work now —

— Then we'll find a job where you don't have to see him everyday — He joked making her laugh, oh how he wished he could be the only one to make her laugh that way.

✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

Lando's eyes opened wide, looking at the ceiling of his room. The imaginary feeling of his bestfriends lips lingered over his as if it had happened.

He had dreamt of a confession that night, from him to her, kisses on sidewalks and an ordinary life by her side. And then he knew it, what deep down he was sure of all along, he was in love

— Hey Lando… — His friend said, looking down at him from the bed, the last letter being pronounced a little longer.

— You're my best friend — He blurted out, to her seemingly out of nowhere

— You're mine too Lando — She replied smiling at him. — Anyway, I was gonna ask if you wanted to make breakfast, I'm dying to eat something —

— Sure yeah, let's go —

Y/N got up from the bed wearing one of Lando's shirts and a pair of shorts, also his. His eyes took in the view, thinking about how he could get used to her sight every morning.

When he finally got up from the matress, he found her listening to music put on his television.

— They got burned, sorry — She said, showing the, now black, toasts she had on the plate, laughing he walked up to her and grabbed the plate, putting it back on the table.

— Don't worry, we'll make more — Lando said, grabbing his friends hand and twirling her around making her laugh.

— Grant me a dance first — He said and she nodded lifting her shirt a bit, pretending it to be a dress, Something by The Beatles heard in the background, locking them in their own little bubble.

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landonorris party on saturday, burn toasts on a sunday morning

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✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩

Bahrain, first race of the year, back in the game. He had prepared himself for a month before it ready to start the season on top, at least top 10.

Unluckily for him, the race was everything but good for him and his team, Oscar dnf'd and he, well he ended up seventeenth, and with the three dnfs that meant he ended up last, on his first race of the season he was last, someone had to be of course but he thought the place would take it a Haas or a Williams, not a Mclaren and especially not him.

Where was he now? At the hotel bar, it was probably around 1 am and in front of him he counted around four now empty glasses that once had a drink. His phone was on his hand now, the phone number of his best friend appeared on the screen.

One, two, three calls later he decided to leave her a voice mail, confessing everything, to the last bit of love he had for her he poured in that message.

— I'm in love with you Y/N, so much since we were kids I think — That's the last thing she heard, after a minute of slurred words she could barely understand that was the only phrase she could hear clearly coming out of her best friends mouth through her phone.

She wanted to cry and scream into a pillow, break everything around her and jump and shput of happiness and go running to whatever part of the world he was in right now and give him the greatest kiss in the world.

Right now, Y/N found her self infront of her bestfriends house, the message telling him she was there had been sent a few seconds ago. She played with her hands impatiently waiting for him to open the door of his home.

— Hey, come in — Lando who had also been waiting for her impatiently said as soon as he opened the door.

She walked through the door before him and sat on the couch by his side. Her eyes went from her lap to his hands and back to her lap, never once looking at his eyes, nervous.

— I don't want this to ruin our friendship Y/N, it was stupid really, I was drunk after that shitty race —

— Lando shut up — She smiled at him and her hands touched his now the contact made him stop talking — I love you too — The confession made him look up, his eyes on hers surprised

— You do, huh, um… I didn't plan what to say if that happened —

— You don't need to tell me anything, although I would like to hear you saying what you told me on that voice mail, but first — Her lips on his, like in his dream that last night they were together after the party. Lando's hands touched the end of her hair, something he knew she loved and then moved to her back

When they finally pulled away Lando spoke — I love you, so much, I dreamt of this, literally — He chuckled and moved a strand of hair that covered her face, his hand cupped the face of the girl infront of him, who smiled after his words.

— My mom is going to be so happy about this — She said laughing and resting her face on his chest

— Yeah mine too and Danny, oh my god, I think he was the first one to realize my feelings for you — He joined her laughter thinking about his friends reaction to the fact that they had told each other they were in love.

yourusername

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yourusername You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love

landonorris childhood friends to lovers like all the books you love

lilymhe love you two ♡

danielricciardo FINALLYY GOD HEARD MY PRAYERS

user4 danny being their biggest fans, i love this.

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