#fools idea bank

[devilsfoolcake]

I need to do my selfships but with my anthro/gijinka pokemon designs GRAAGGH idk why i havent yet

[juror4]

I have got to stop checking up on what Gucci is putting out... Every time it's such soulless poseur shit it stresses me out.

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS GENERAL HCS DURING DATING ── .✦

a/n: my posts are barely getting engagement so it would be nice to reblog + like + cmmt tysm! Also

I’m so tired because I don’t know what I want to do with myself when like writing because I don’t have much ideas yk, (I do have a lottt of ideas just don’t want to like spam and idk how to like execute it correctly so ya) but I’m so grateful I’m back!

(Tags: batboys general hcs + fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Compliments: Dick will compliment you constantly, but they’re the slightly extra kind. “You look like you just walked off the cover of a magazine… Or like you’re about to rob a bank with your style, and I’m here for it.”

Date Nights: Dick is a hopeless romantic mixed a romantic flirty person. He'll plan elaborate date nights that are almost too perfect. You're having a candlelit dinner on a rooftop... until a mosquito swoops by, and you both spend 20 minutes trying to catch it.

Awkwardly Adorable: Dick tries so hard to be smooth, but when it’s just the two of you, he ends up tripping over his words, saying things like “I love you… like… in a non-creepy way… I mean, I know that sounds creepy but—“, “you know dick, you could’ve just told me you loved me no need for all that extra yapping.”

Sharing Food: He can’t resist sharing his food with you but will dramatically defend his fries. “No, you can't have any. This is the last one. You’ll be fine. It’s called 'the sacrifice of love.'”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Cute: Jason might be brooding and grumpy on the outside, but once he gets comfortable with you, he’s a sucker for giving you the best hugs. They’re just not as soft as you expect, because, well, he’s Red Hood and that’s not very 'soft' in his book.

Love Language: He definitely has a love language of throwing sarcastic remarks at you to show affection. “I’m just saying, you look so good, I might actually let you live longer than five minutes without me.”

Meme Sharing: Jason will share the funniest memes with you, and he will laugh harder than anyone else when you send him a reaction meme. You two could spend hours going through meme after meme while ignoring his patrol responsibilities.

Late Night Conversations: He’s always the first to text at 3 am just to say, “I’m not okay. Also, I think I might’ve made pasta in the Batcave, but it’s 80% burnt and half of the 20% is missing on the ground in other words, it’s fully burnt. You in?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Puns & Dad Jokes: Tim is the king of puns. You might be mid-sentence talking about something serious, and he’ll sneak in, “Well, that’s egg-sactly what I was thinking.”

Organizing Everything: Tim will have a notebook just for your relationship. He organizes things like "future plans," "annoying habits to change," and “how we can both pretend to be normal in public.”

Overthinking: Tim might send you long, thoughtful texts about nothing and everything, then panic and delete them. Later, you get a short text that says, “Hey, I like you. It’s cool. Let’s go save Gotham.”

Netflix & Research: On date nights, Tim is all about watching a documentary on some obscure topic. You wanted to watch a rom-com? Nope. Tim says, “Let’s learn about the history of ancient pizza ovens.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Fiercely Protective: Damian will go full boss mode in a relationship. If someone even looks at you wrong, he’s ready to challenge them to a duel. You’ve never seen someone challenge a guy at the coffee shop to a sword fight over a latte until you met him.

Literally Shakespeare: He has this bizarre habit of reciting random Shakespeare quotes when trying to express his feelings. “My love for you is like a tempest, crashing and relentless. Also, I think you forgot to add sugar in my coffee.”

Jealousy: He’ll get jealous of even the smallest things. That random guy who offered to help you with your grocery bags? Damian’s glaring at them from across the parking lot, preparing his “You’re not worthy” speech.

Tenderness: Don’t be fooled by his brooding exterior. Damian will get you flowers (in his own way) — like a very dramatic single red rose that he purchased with the least amount of emotion possible, but you know he spent an hour picking the perfect one.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Grumpy But Loyal: Bruce is that partner who takes a long time to warm up to things, but once he’s in, he’s in 100%. He’ll still be grumpy, though. If you show up in a bat-themed shirt, you’ll get a raised eyebrow and a grunt that could probably level an entire building.

Affectionate In His Own Way: Bruce will bring you your favorite coffee without asking because he’s been paying attention to your usual order for the past six months. But if you say anything about it, he’ll act like he’s annoyed. “I’m Batman. I don’t do things for people.”

Overprotective: He’ll put the Batcomputer between the two of you if he’s feeling protective, even if it’s completely unnecessary. Someone bumps into you? Bruce is already three steps ahead, tracking their life history and figuring out their deepest secrets, just in case.

Romantic, But Quiet About It: Bruce can’t show his love through words, but the way he gives you his jacket when it’s cold speaks volumes. Of course, he acts like it was an accident. “I didn’t want you to catch a cold, that’s all. I’m not a softy, don’t read into it.”

GENERAL TRAITS FOUND IN THEM ── .✦

Matching Outfits: They’ll all pretend like they’re too cool for matching outfits, but one day they’ll catch themselves accidentally twinning with you, and neither of you can ever act normal again.

In Public: They’ll all act like they don’t care if you hold their hand in public, but if anyone tries to grab your hand instead, they’ll give them a glare that could freeze a person in place.

Batman’s Turtleneck: Every Batboy secretly loves when Bruce wears his iconic black turtleneck and glasses. They all think Bruce looks like a mysterious intellectual, and they might just start commenting on it to mess with him. Bruce is too focused on Gotham to care.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar: feeding my complex

If you know me irl 🎶no the fuck you dont 🎶

This is azriel x reader x feyre x rhys smut. Everything is under the cut. (i'm so nervous posting this omg) 

(3.7K YALL WTF POSSESSED ME)

title is from complex by xana pls listen xana is one of the best artists ive ever heard!

‼️Minors Do Not Interact‼️

(i already know minors are gonna ignore that bc i have common sense)

notes: probably ooc rhys and az. i do not see them as the type to share mates but like, it’s hot. you could see this as wlw fetishization but as a pan/bi/queer woman this is a goddamn wet dream so i approve it. (duh i wrote it) 

This is mainly porn with no plot, but i snuck some in. 

kinks: ass play, tongue sucking, female worship, voyeurism, switching from top to bottom real quick, dirty talk (i tried), praise, oral (fem receiving), mating press, pussy slapping, edging, mentioned past knife play. I think i got it all folks. 

It all started from a dinner with Feyre and Rhysand. Aka your childhood best friend and her husband. You and Feyre dreamed of double dates with your spouses as children and now you finally have it. 

You four occasionally had these dinners, typically once a month. 

After the meal, you four were in the living room area, Azriel was on his second glass of wine, Rhysand and you weren’t drinking. Feyre was on her first glass. The fire was crackling with life, causing the room to warm. 

Then you four began sharing silly secrets. It started with Feyre and Rhysand fucking in paint, which gave your husband ideas. Then you and Azriel admonishing them for fucking in the literal sky. But then they scolded you two for knife play. Especially when they found out Truthteller’s handle was used to fuck you. 

“How did you even grip that?” Feyre asked. 

Azriel smirked, “who said I was the one holding it?”

“Who the hell did you invite to your bed and why wasn’t it us?” Rhysand asked, jokingly but you warmed at the idea. 

“The shadows you fool.” You laughed, sipping your water. “Az pinned me down and sucked my tits while the shadows pinned my legs down and used Truthtellers handle to fuck me. 

They were silent and then, “I love how you have no filter, baby.” Az coughed. 

“So do I. Damn.” Feyre said. “That’s spank bank material.”

You snorted and Rhysand just tipped his glass to you. 

Which then the conversation turned into friends having sex, and then: 

“You mean to tell me, you and my High Lady would have sex?” Azriel asked, surprised clearly. He knew you were into women but it was different knowing the object of your past affections was his close friend and High Lady. 

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged at your mate. “Two girls that the village wanted nothing to do with. Might as well do each other.”

“And by the way, it was a loving and very respectful relationship. Platonic sex!” Feyre declared from her spot on the couch. 

“Huh.” Rhysand said. “You know, I expected not to like that but…” he trailed off. “The thoughts are nice.”

You snorted and looked at Azriel, who was looking at you with an expression that could only be described as eye-fucking. 

“Are you serious?” You asked him grinning. He had the decency to blush. 

“What?” Feyre asked, looking towards you. 

“He’s into it too!” You laughed. 

Feyre laughed as well, “I mean I don’t blame them. We are quite hot together.” She scooted closer to you on the couch. 

“That we are.” You grinned and clinked your glasses together. 

You all quickly went onto other topics, but you both could tell that the boys just could not stop imagining you two together. 

“Okay, how do we bring you two back to the present?” Feyre asked. 

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 

“You two have been acting so weird since we said we used to hook up. So how do we stop that weirdness?” Feyre asked. 

“We just never imagined our wives with equally attractive women.” Rhysand shrugged. 

You gasped, “are you saying I’m as hot as Feyre? That's the best compliment.” 

He was silent. He actually looked sheepish, he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and everything. 

“What?” You asked. 

“He’s saying you’re as hot as him.” Azriel said. 

You gasped even louder. “Seriously?!” 

“I mean, you are,” Feyre shrugged. 

“And Feyre is….as attractive as you are, love.” Azriel said. 

“Awww Azzie..” Feyre cooed teasingly. “That's so cute.”

The tips of his ears became bright red. 

Rhysand stuttered out, “it’s just, hard to imagine so…” He trailed off 

You turned and looked at Feyre. “They wanna see us smooch.” You giggled. 

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed your face and pecked you on the lips. 

When you turned towards the boys, they were wide eyed but not satisfied. “You’re blue-balling us.” Rhysand huffed. 

“Oh? You wanna see us do what?”

Rhysand was silent and looked at Azriel then you two. Feyre coaxed, “words baby.” 

“We want to see you two make out.” Azriel ended their misery. “And maybe…” He shrugged. 

“Maybe?” You prodded. You knew exactly what that voyeur wanted to see. But gods, this was fun enough for you. And it was turning you the fuck on. 

“Maybe if it’s hot, then we fuck you both together.” Azriel snapped, but it wasn’t malicious. Your mate snapped when he was flustered, which was rare. So you were eating this shit up. 

“If?” You chuckled. “Baby, it’s gonna be.” 

“Yeah yeah you know you two are hot.” Rhysand muttered. 

You giggled, “then we have to go to bed, don’t we?” You asked Feyre. 

“Duh.” She laughed, downed her drink then grabbed your hand. You both took off down the hallway, the men nearly tripping over themselves to follow you two. 

You two beat them to the bed. You both fell into a heap of giggles as they ran up the stairs. 

“Is it weird if I’ve missed kissing you?” Feyre asked. She threw off her baggy shirt, so her bra was on display. But left her shorts on. “As much as I love Rhys, kissing girls is just.” She kissed the air. 

“I feel the same.” You giggled into your shared air. You shucked your shorts off, revealing the granny panties you were wearing. If you knew this was coming, you would’ve worn a hot set. You left the big tee shirt on. 

“I’m not wearing panties, I wanna leave some mystery.” Feyre said. 

“I would’ve worn a hot set if i knew this was happening.” You laughed, you could hear the boys were close to the bedroom. 

“It’s not fair you look hot in granny panties.” Feyre groaned. 

You laughed as the boys arrived, now the fun could begin. 

“C���mere.” You grinned and Feyre did as well. 

The two of you sat on the bed, facing each other. Your knees touching. Very much aware of your husbands at the end of the bed waiting for you two to kiss. Their heated gazes stroked the inferno that was in your cunt. Throbbing. 

When you and Feyre’s lips met, the world went silent. Kissing Feyre was always like falling into a comfy bed. Soft, plush and safe. As much as you loved Azriel as he was your mate, and you obviously were sexually attracted to men. You also were sexually attracted to women. There was never a worry with Az. He never wanted to invite anyone to the bedroom because he didn’t trust anyone. 

But these, these were two of the people he trusted most. 

Nothing beats kissing a girl.

Your mouths opened for each other, your tongues caressing each other. Lewd sounds were the only sound in the bedroom aside from Azriel and Rhysands heavy breathing. Feyre pulled you against her, your tits rubbing against each other, you wore no bra underneath so the contact caused your nipples to pebble. She ran her hands underneath your shirt, scraping her nails against your back. Your hands wove into her hair and pulled her even closer. Her nails dug into your plush hips. 

She pulled away, “Gods, I missed these hips. Fucking perfection. So soft.” Between each sentence she pressed a kiss to your swollen lips. “Felt even better sitting on my face. Remember that?” 

“Gods how could I forget?” You whispered. You smelled the musky, manly scent of Azriel and Rhysands arousal, you felt your pussy throb at the aroma of them and the sweet smell of Feyre’s mixing.  

You captured Feyres lips between your own. Better than a drug. More addictive and exhilarating. 

You heard rustling and then the sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

You felt warm heat radiate at your back as large thighs cradled your butt and hips. Azriel’s warm hands went around your waist to hold you. He kissed your neck. You felt his cock in bump into your plush thighs. Rock hard. 

How far are we going with this? Rhysand created a link to all of your minds.

As far as you boys would like. This isn’t new for Y/N and I. Feyres throaty laugh echoed in your minds. Safe word? 

Peach. Like Y/N’s ass. Azriel said as he spanked you. 

No ones gonna get possessive and rip out someone’s throat? You asked as your tongue licked down the side of Feyres throat, your teeth scraped her skin. She let out a breathy moan. 

Nobody else I trust to fuck my wife than these two. Azriel responded 

Glad you have so much faith. Rhysand said. Can’t wait to make your wife see the galaxy. 

yeah watch me make your wife come. Was all you said before your fingers dipped into Feyre’s shorts. 

Azriel chose that moment to slip his hand into the back of your panties and spread your ass cheeks with his long thick fingers. Just rubbing outside the tight ring made you quiver. You weren’t a fan of penetration there, but a little bit of ass play never hurt. 

You snuck your hand into her shorts, her smooth, wet pussy was warm and inviting. You wanted to sink into it with your tongue and fuck her so hard she didn’t know her name. But, you’d do that another time, either with Rhys coming down her throat or just watching while Azriel pounded into you from behind, you weren't picky. 

You gathered her slick and brought it up to her clit and continuously rubbed circles on the bundle of nerves. 

Based on the way her thighs clenched around your hand, you knew something was going on in the back. Then you saw the lube in Rhysands hand get thrown onto the bed and knew that she was also getting some ass action.  

“Is he fucking your ass?” You asked her. She groaned. “You got my fingers on your clit, your husbands in your asshole and you’re giving my husband a filthy fucking show? You grabbed her face with your free hand, “open.” You ordered. 

She did so without complaint, her tongue sticking out as you took her tongue between your lips and sucked on it like it was your favorite candy. 

You pulled away long enough to say, “dirty fucking girl.” You saw her eyes roll back into her head as you took her tongue in your mouth again and sucked it. 

You moaned around her tongue as Azriel began pressing harder against your tight asshole. He began rubbing faster. You whimpered. You weren’t afraid to admit that it doesn’t take much to make you finish. But you also have a faster turnaround time than most. It helps that this sight, this situation was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

You let go of Feyre’s tongue. “Wanna sit on my face baby?” You asked Feyre as she pitched forward into your shoulder. “Huh? You can sit on my face while Az fucks me and you can suck Rhys’ cock. How does that sound?” You rubbed her even faster. 

She let out a louder moan as you felt her thighs quiver around your hand. 

“Or maybe you wanna see what the biggest wingspan feels like.” You grinned, you saw Rhys’ eyes flash a stormy violet. “His cock is so thick, baby.” You panted against Feyre’s temple. “You can feel every vein as you bounce. I bet it’d stretch you out so ni-“ 

You were cut off when someone threw you down on the bed. You looked up to see Rhys’ eyes pinning you down. One of his hands pinning both your wrists down. “Azriel.” Was all he said. 

“Yeah?” He asked, still discombobulated from the shift in position. 

“Pleasure my wife out while I eat yours out.” 

Your husband, your mate, let out a dark chuckle. “As you wish, My Lord.” Your mate sent a gentle caress down the bond. It was almost mocking. 

It was fucking hot. 

Rhys let out his beast form enough that his wings spread even wider, his right hand that wasn’t holding your wrist turned into his beast claws. And his cock was a hard rod against your inner thigh. 

“You know, it’s because of you my wife didn’t get to cum.” He said, one single talon cutting your shirt open. The cool air brushed against the swells of your tits. “If you just kept your fucking mouth shut, she would’ve finished.” He scolded as his wife's moans were in the background, you quickly glanced over Rhysand’s shoulder to see Azriel fingering his High Lady. 

“Am I supposed to be sorry?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

You had no idea what possessed you to say that to him. You’re only mouthy with Azriel, but not all the time. 

You were in a brat mood because the next thing you said was, “you mad that out of all of us I got to fuck her first?”

“Are you always this mouthy?” He asked. 

“You have no idea.” Azriel said, taking a break from sucking on Feyre’s tits and fingering her cunt. You were jealous of your husband. Feyre’s tits were spectacular. 

Rhysand pinned your waist down and began mouthing at one of your tits. His tongue circled a nipple and he grazed his canine against it which caused your back to shoot up off the bed. 

You felt Rhysands claws tap your mental shield, you let him in. 

“Praise or degradation?” He switched to the other breast. 

“Both. But, don’t overdo it with the name calling please.” You requested. You were bullied as a kid so name calling is a toughie to navigate. 

“What words are you against?” He then tore the rest of your shirt off completely. The cool air causing goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“I don’t like being told I'm ‘just a cunt’. Degrade me by roughing me up. Praise my looks while you do it.”

His chuckle echoed in your mind, “oh I can certainly work with that.” 

“These beautiful thighs are meant to be parted.” He said as he trailed down your curvy body. “Curves of a goddess too.” He pulled your granny panties off and threw them somewhere. 

Azriel always told you how beautiful you were, but you weren’t gonna lie, hearing it from a guy like Rhysand was pretty nice too. 

“The prettiest woman I've seen.” Feyre said off in the distance. She was moaning as well. You didn’t know what your mate was doing. But you knew it was good. 

You hummed as he spread your legs, he blew on your clit and the air made your thighs twitch. 

“Your stretch marks are so beautiful.” He said into your mind. 

He licked a stripe between your folds and moaned. He started sloppily eating like a man starved. Your toes were curling, your heels pushing into his shoulder blades and pushing him further into you. Your hands curl into his hair. 

“You taste like fucking heaven. Our perfect, beautiful, otherworldly little slut.” 

“How does it feel knowing everyone in this room has tasted this perfect cunt?” The breath from him speaking felt like ecstasy as it went over your puffy red cunt.  

“Fuck.” Your eyes rolled back. 

He pulls away and you whine, then squeak when he slaps your pussy. “I asked a question.” He was just adding fuel to the flame. 

“It feels so fucking good. Like I'm a God.” You couldn’t help the truth bubbling out. Anything to get his tongue back inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you were sure they could all hear it. You were a greedy little thing. 

“You are a God, you are our God that tastes so fucking good it’s addictive.” He whispered as if the sentence was a prayer. 

He then put his mouth to use. He rolled your bud around with his tongue. Having the raw, targeted motions made you more sensitive. Causing pleasurable shocks to go through your body. 

“Only we get to make you feel like this, only us. You are ours.” 

“Your curves, your plushness, Gods. Perfection.” 

Right as your thighs began to shake, right as your stomach began to clench and twist, he stopped. 

You could not help the whine. Feyre whined too. It seems the boys had planned something. 

The little bitches had edged you both. “She’s ready for you.” Rhysand smirked at your husband, his lips coated in your slick. 

Azriel grabbed your legs and pulled them onto his shoulders so quickly it caused you to yelp. The head of his cock slapping your pussy lips. 

Feyre was then laid right next to you, both men were now on the bed on their knees. 

Realization set in, these bastards were putting you two in mating presses. 

Rhysand bent down to kiss his mate, when he pulled away, she smirked. “You taste so good with Y/N’s pussy smeared all over your lips. My new favorite dessert.” 

Before you could see Rhysands reaction, Azriel pulled your attention towards him. “Look at you being the favorite slut of the group.” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing which caused you to pitifully whine. “You want me to fill that pussy, baby?” Azriel asked. “Show who has the biggest wingspan?” 

“Mhm.” You whined again. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” 

And together, both him and Rhys, pushed into their wives pussies. 

You let out a guttural moan as the delicious stretch came. Then the feeling of being pleasantly full. Almost to the point of too much. You couldn’t help the tears that came out of your eyes. Since the beginning of the night you’ve been pent up and to finally feel the release and that all the build up was coming to an amazing moment. 

Your cunt greedily sucked him in, as if welcoming him home. “You’ve always been made for me.” You whispered. You two together were truly like a puzzle, the way your bodies reacted to each other was proof of that. 

The fat head of his cock hit your g-spot and the world went white. Your gummy walls felt like heaven to him. And this felt like heaven to you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned as he began pounding into you. He curled in on you, his arms came around to your back and up to your shoulders, holding you in place as his harsh thrusts dove into you. Azriel’s balls were slapping against your ass, a feeling that will never get old. His head going to your neck. 

Sounds surrounded you, Azriels panting against your skin. Azriel and Rhysands grunts. The sounds of skin slapping, gasps and moans that fell from Feyres lips like a prayer. You could feel the sweat from your back clinging to the bedding on top. Azriels breath against your neck, adding to the pleasure. Your nails clawing at Azriels back. 

The bed was moving with all four of you on it. You heard something in the frame snap but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if the bed fell through the floor. 

You turned your head to the side to see Feyre getting pounded into so hard her eyes were rolling back. Rhysand had pinned her hands to the bed with his own and practically flattened her against the bedding. 

It was so fucking hot. 

She turned her head, her mascara smeared and her lips puffy and red. Skin so beautifully flushed. You knew you looked the same to her. Beautiful. You two held eye contact as you were pounded within an inch of your lives, the act alone felt more intimate than kissing. 

All of it together made the rope finally snap. 

You clenched around your husband's cock hard. Hard enough that it caused him to gasp. 

“Fuck, you always clench around me so good, baby. I’m almost there, yeah?” He murmured. Making sure it was okay to continue pounding into your g-spot. 

“Use me, Azriel.” The overstimulation didn’t scare you. It thrilled you. You loved squirting and you were ready to do it. “Use me like a fucking toy.” 

You didn’t know he could thrust harder in the moment, but he did. You held his sweaty head against your neck. It felt like he was going even deeper, which you didn’t know was possible. He bit into the area between your shoulder and neck, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

You heard Feyre’s tell-tale noise and then both her and Rhysand finished. You could tell based on their sounds and the smells. 

Then you felt the tingly feeling of when you’re about to squirt. “Az.” You whined and clenched him hard. 

His lips grazed your neck as he spoke. “I know, I’m there.” You felt his cock release and then let yourself go. 

Your pussy clamped down on him so hard he groaned and collapsed on top of you. The release with Az always felt like you were reborn. Free. Cherished. You knew you had absolutely soaked Feyre and Rhysand’s bed, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“Did so fucking good baby.” You said and kissed his temple. 

Rhysand rolled over onto the other side of Feyre, Azriel eventually pulled out of you and just flopped on the other side of you. Rhysand snapped his fingers and all of you were in clean sheets and were clean. Still felt grimy but you could live with it until you could bathe. He had the courtesy to magic a blanket over the four of you. 

The room was silent except for your panting. 

“So.” Rhys began. 

“We’re doing that again right?” Feyre finished. 

“Yeah.” Azriel panted. 

“Fuck yeah.” You agreed. “I already have ideas.” 

Feyre snorted, “of course you do. Can’t wait for you to experience the wonders of Y/N’s perverted mind, babe.” She said and you heard her punch her husband's shoulder. 

Azriel chuckled, “The shadows fucking her with Truthteller was her idea.” 

“Fuck.” 

[disneyprincemuke]

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & YOU USING THEM AS A BODY PILLOW .

characters. wriothesley scara x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. this is so tiney im so sorry anon but this is all my brain can handle rn ueueuueue. i hope this is okay :"))))) . | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

wriothesley

wriothesley actually doesn't mind being your body pillow...

i mean. you're comfortable. he's comfortable

everybody wins!

but also sometimes you squeeze him really hard and he freezes up because how are you so STRONG. like what the hell

(secretly he thinks of you picking him up like that. ough)

wriothesley doesn't actually have the heart to tell you to move aside.

how can he, when you look like such an angel wrapped around his waist? bathroom and bladder control be damned.

it's like having a cat on your lap. rule number one: never move from your spot if you're the chosen one. congratulations. you're bound to the couch forever

when you wake up, though ... wriothesley has fallen asleep. now it's your turn to not move. you're the body pillow now. hehe.

scara

grumpy cat. gruuuuumpy cat

okay i feel like maybe i push the scara hates things agenda a lot. i don't actually think scara hates this... when he knows that it makes you happy, he's willing to sacrifice his back just for you

maybe at the most he acts as if he's reluctant. dont let it fool you though – he's warm to the touch and actually a relatively good cuddler.

please don't be fooled! he might warm up to the idea sooner or later

it really is a win though, please keep convincing him. he gets cuddles, you get cuddles, and he doesn't even have to ask for it! no more convincing himself that he's fine and doesn't need that

especially when you initiate it. just keep doing it – watch as he slowly inches closer towards you. maybe he even tries to put his arm on your waist, stroking it with his thumb. just maybe.

and maybe, you're the one who allows him to open up to physical affection.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes (send ask/comment to be added to taglist) plus birthday tag!! @catcze hope u like the wriothesley part, pls cuddle himmmm

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this and would like to support me, please consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[pinkroseblooms]

Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?” 

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!” 

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.��� he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!” 

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Hey…why did you stop?” 

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 

“Ah!” 

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!” 

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day

And other Valentine's Day miscellanea. I'm going with MC giving store-bought chocolates. I know in some places, it's more common to give homemade chocolates, but I for one do not have any idea how that is done and it's not something that's common where I live, so I'm going to go with what I know, which is very little. Enjoy! (Mostly below the cut.)

The length of these varies. Some are quite short. I just wanted to put out some sort of Valentine's Day themed Thing, even if I'm almost two days late.

Lucifer

"How thoughtful. I don't suppose there's anything deeper I'm meant to read into here?"

He's so smug. Unreasonably so. More than you would expect. Yeah, guys, he got chocolates from MC. But his pride doesn't allow him to flaunt the fact. He has to just hope and pray people actively ask him whether he's gotten anything or where those not-so-discreetly placed chocolates sitting on his desk happened to come from.

Lucifer is very traditional in his treatment of you. When it comes to events like this, he's almost painfully predictable. He'll certainly have roses for you, and depending on your relationship, he might reserve dinner for two at a high end restaurant. And if your relationship is at a certain level, you can expect a trail of rose petals leading to the bed. It's kind of cringeworthy but he means well.

Mammon

"O-oh... Ahem... Is it Valentine's Day? Ha! I thought I was forgettin' somethin'. Heh, uh... thanks, human."

Obviously he didn't forget; he's been stressing over this day for the past week. He needs to get you something, but it can't be anything that's too cheesy or anything that makes him look cheap, so he's probably broken the bank to get you some sort of jewelry that he'll spend the next century paying off, but it's worth it.

When he gets chocolates from you, he plays it off like it's no big deal, but actually, he's so excited to reciprocate that before he has time to think it over, he's acting like he just so happened to have this expensive piece of jewelry on his person so you might as well take it for him. He spends the rest of the day kicking himself because now how in the world are you supposed to know that this was actually a very tactful and expensive gift from the greatest demon in the Devildom?

That, and he'll probably spend the entire day glaring at his brothers and the dateables from the corner as they shower you with gifts and attention.

Leviathan

"Wh...? For me? This isn't a prank, right? Because I'm not gonna forgive you if this box is full of tide pods!"

It's not full of tide pods, so all is well. He's so embarrassed to have doubted you that he tries to just shove his gift into your hands and push you out of his room, but it won't take too much persistence to get him to back down.

His gift is some sort of merch relating to an anime, manga, or game the two of you have particularly enjoyed together. Preferably something cute and evocative of the holiday. He doesn't know. He's never done this before. Why would he? Nobody would ever think to give him anything on Valentine's Day, so why would he bother with gifts? You do remember that nobody likes him, right? He doesn't like them either, so it's fine, but---

Let's just thank him for our gift before he falls too far down the self-hate spiral.

Satan

"I had hoped I might receive something from you today."

Satan is glad to get something from you, no matter what it is, but to be honest, chocolates probably aren't the best choice for him. He'd rather have something a little more heart-felt, that seems like you picked it out with him in mind. Literally anything cat-themed, or a book of some sort (bonus if it's a romance novel).

He's probably gone and done something stupidly romantic like buy you flowers and a book of poetry with certain parts highlighted.

But don't be fooled. Satan's favorite part of Valentine's Day is talking about its gruesome history, from the martyrdom of St. Valentine to a whole host of brutal murders that have taken place on the day. Catch him trying to figure out how to shoehorn the Chicago St. Valentine's Day Massacre into a casual conversation.

Asmodeus

"Oh, for meeee? You're such a sweetheart!"

He adds it to his enormous pile of chocolates, cards, flowers, and love letters. But of course, it's special, because it's from you.

He loves it, but... he's another one who would probably prefer something a little more personalized. Being who he is, he's a very popular demon on Valentine's Day, so seeing you put in a little effort to get him something with a bit of Asmo-flair would thrill him.

Beelzebub

"Chocolates...? This is the best thing I could have asked for. They'll taste even better knowing they're from you."

Well, obviously he loves them. He probably tried to get you chocolates too, but it doesn't matter how much he loves you. Beel's gonna Beel. The box is empty. He's shocked. He was sure he left some.

Belphegor

"...Wait, it's...? ...Thanks, MC. They look really good."

Belphie stares down at the chocolates in his hands, looking tired and mellow, while he internally panics because holy shit, it's already February 14? When did that happen? He doesn't have anything for you. He hates Valentine's Day. Why does it have to exist and lay bare all his inadequacies, like being a procrastinator and forgetting to prepare for things in advance even to the slightest degree?

Diavolo

"Ah, for Valentine's Day! It's a delight to receive this in person!"

Diavolo probably gets plenty of Valentine's Day presents from admirers (and suck-ups) around the Devildom, but most of them come in the mail or are otherwise delivered in an impersonal manner. So when you approach him directly to give him some chocolates, he's reminded why you're everyone's favorite human (himself included).

Also, you'd better clear out your schedule, because Diavolo booked out all of Ristorante Six for a dinner date tonight. Yes, the entire thing. Yes, on Valentine's Day. No, he's not worried about the dozens of disappointed couples who had probably been hoping to eat there.

Barbatos

"Any gift from you is satisfactory in my eyes."

It's kind of embarrassing to give regular old chocolates to someone like Barbatos who's a complete whiz in the kitchen, especially when it comes to sweets. But you figure he'd appreciate the gesture, and you'd be right. Of course, he will turn around and present you with a variety of immaculate, handcrafted artisan chocolates, tailor made to your personal taste. But sure, those store-bought candies you got in the heart-shaped box are completely fine, so stop stressing out about it.

Solomon

"Aw, thank you, my adorable apprentice! I have some homemade chocolates for you! What? Aren't you going to try some?"

Solomon tries to kill you on Valentine's Day...with love, obviously! But seriously, aren't you going to try the chocolates? He put his whole heart into them. And the hearts of several unique Devildom species. They're not toxic, stop worrying.

Simeon

"The fact that you thought of me means more than you realize."

And he means it. The fact that you thought about him, and when thinking about him, made the active decision to buy him something for Valentine's Day makes him stupidly happy.

Simeon strikes me as a flowers kind of guy. He got you flowers. Maybe some homemade treats too, but definitely flowers.

Luke

"Thanks! I got you something too. Happy Valentine's Day!"

Luke made cookies. They're delicious. Befriending this kid is the smartest thing you ever did.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Can I get some steter with morally dubious Stiles?

You sure can! @kevaaronday made this list.

A Darkness Follows by havok2cat (9/9 | 41,994 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles serves his community service at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. He's assigned to a mysterious patient and finds himself quickly becoming obsessed.

As most wrong theories are by PotatoYoghurt

(46/46 | 35,150 | Explicit | Stetopher) The world takes everything from Stiles.

Stiles decides to take it back.

Null & Void by skargasm (18/18 | 28,762 | Explicit | Steter) In a world full of the supernatural and superpowers, everyone eagerly awaits their 18th birthday to ‘receive’ their gift. On his 18th birthday, Stiles Stilinski comes into his powers and finds out in the most horrific way possible that his gift is more of a curse – one unguarded touch, and he absorbs both a person’s gift andtheir life-force. 

Determined to keep his friends and family safe, he moves away from his home and takes a job with the government, taking away the gifts of those who would abuse them. As one of the most powerful – and potentially dangerous – people in the world, Void feels completely alone. 

Peter Hale’s gift is incredibly prized – mainly because no one is allowed to openly discuss what their gift is. Working within the P.A.C.K. bureau, he keeps his family safe and does the world a service. No-one’s gift can touch him, and he is one of the very few who can tell what someone’s gift is from one simple touch. 

So what does he do with this ruthless but attractive new partner who refuses to let Peter touch him?

To Court a (Oblivious) Werewolf by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal (5/5 | 25,437 | Explicit | Steter) There was no mistaking that this was the Spark.

He walked with a lethal grace, hands in his pockets and head tilted down slightly. His entire body had a soft glow to it.

Three bodies moved in unison to flank him, and they walked the remaining distance to the pack.

As if sensing his perusal, the boy looked up, right at Peter, his whiskey-colored eyes flashing in the sun.

Oh. Peter briefly wondered if the young man hid his face for safety, or because every ‘wolf within ten miles would be looking to court him.

Perhaps by Triskuit (1/1 | 7,168 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles and Peter run into each other when attempting to kill the same people. They get together and go a-murderin'.

-----

“Should we be comparing lists or something?”

There was an amused snort. “Perhaps.”

They stood around awkwardly for a few moments and then Stiles went to get a closer look at the thoroughly shredded Body Formerly Known As Todd.

“You’re not going to ask?” the werewolf blurted.

There was surprise and incredulity in his voice. And was that a hint of disappointment? Stiles bet he had a whole spiel prepared. He smirked.

“About what? You’re a guy who turns into a wolf-bear creature. And? Do you have another trick up your sleeve? Some fascinating hobby?”

The werewolf erupted into a full-body laugh, mouth open and eyes sparkling — Stiles was close enough now to see that they were blue — and he was pleased to elicit such a response. He wanted to hear that sound again. 

Aconite is Forever by threedices (1/1 | 5,636 | Teen | Steter) Magic helps Stiles find his soulmate. Knowing Peter exists is a comfort after his mother's death.

While magic doesn't stop the Hale fire it allows Stiles to bring Peter back when he thinks sacrificing himself for Stiles is a good idea (the fool).

Too Good to be True by stellewrites (1/1 | 5,256 | Teen | Steter) “This is a big fucking job, Ali,” Stiles said tiredly as he looked over the blueprints for the banks. “I’ll be doing you more than a favour if I do this. It’s peak time for tourists, so that means that cops are going to be more alert than usual. We won’t have much time.” 

“So, you’re in?” She confirmed. 

“Yeah, I’m in,” he said

“Who the fuck actually robs a bank in Las Vegas?” Peter murmured, feeling hysterical when he saw the masked group spread around the bank. 

--- 

Peter's on holiday with his friends in Las Vegas when he gets caught up in a bank robbery. One of the robbers has really pretty eyes - not that Peter noticed…

To Captivate a Killer by Noxnthea (1/1 | 2,000 | Teen | Steter) “The problem is that I’m not sure whether I want to kill him or kiss him.”

There’s silence from the Sheriff’s end of the spell before his father says, “Really, Stiles?” 

Stiles has accepted a contract to assassinate the Hale prince. It’s not panning out quite like he expected.

Just Calm Down by SnakePit1995 (1/1 | 1,085 | Gen | Steter) Stiles putting wards on Peter's apartment was easily the best decision he ever made. They worked perfectly and saved them time and time again. The intent wards were an everlasting argument but Stiles was never going to take them down. 

OR

The intent wards don't let Peter into the apartment when he's angry and Stiles finds it endlessly entertaining.

[allurilove]

Can we have a Mother and son day with Henry and yandere husband spies on us and ends up getting caught? ( this is just a request that you can write later if you want).

When summer was slowly coming to an end, the school season was already beginning. Henry needed new clothes after he grew out of his old ones, and that meant he had to sadly ditch his trusty overalls. Henry begged you to go to the mall with him as he hated shopping with his father. Your yandere husband could be in the mall for hours and hours, and while he blamed you for draining his bank account, he was also at fault too.

Yandere husband had a somewhat fashionable taste, and it must've been a genetic thing since his father was like that too. Your husband wouldn't really let Henry get what he wanted, even the light-up Skechers he dreamed of having. Henry argued that he would be the coolest kid in town if he had those, but your husband said it was tacky.

That's why you were with Henry instead of that big ol' grump. You were the only person who would listen to him! And the only one that was easily manipulated to buy crazy printed t-shirts with exploding dinosaurs on the front! Henry smiled evilly, rubbing his hands together as you paid for the shirt. While the kid would wear the shirt to school, he also wanted to buy it to shove it in his father’s face.

"Do you need anything else?" You asked your son, who was excitedly holding the shirt in his hands.

He was examining it with slight disbelief on his face. Surely, this shirt wasn't school appropriate... but you had bought it for him anyway! What a dream come true!

The kid stroked his chin in thought, tossing the shirt back into the bag. He already knew what he wanted next before you asked that question. “Can I get new shoes?"

"I thought you bought some with your father last week?" You said, pinching his cheek. He blushed before he shyly pulled away from you.

"...I must've grown too big for them now! They hurt my feet." Henry faked a wince and started to stumble as he walked. "Owie... ouch..." He whimpered.

—-

The little kid skipped out of the store with a huge smile, his shoes lighting up with each bounce, and his favorite superhero plastered on the sides. You then bought him a cinnamon pretzel while you sipped on some lemonade. He was very happy until he abruptly stopped walking. He sniffed the air, smelling hints of cedarwood, bergamot, clove, and desperation. He had a pretty good idea of who it was, but for good measure, he licked his index finger and raised it into the air. Henry's eyes narrowed, the gears turning in his head, and his whole body did a 180.

"You!" Henry pointed at the poor fool, who was clearly trying to hide himself behind his cup of Annie's Pretzels.

Yandere husband wore a dark grey trench coat, an infinity scarf around his neck that also covered his mouth, and a pair of black sunglasses by James Oro. He pretended not to see the boy blatantly pointing at him. He got up from his seat and hurriedly walked in the opposite direction, gripping his cup of plain pretzel bites and muttering curses to himself as he heard the angry tiny footsteps behind him.

"Dad!" Henry huffed as he picked up his pace. "I know that's you! I can smell you from a mile away."

Yandere husband nervously chuckled, turned his head to take one glance at his son, and shook his head. He stretched his legs out even further to walk faster, using his hips and arms to gain some sort of leverage over his shorter son. "Dad? My name isn't 'dad'... it's Brad!" He deepened his voice to respond to Henry.

Henry rolled his eyes and managed to grab onto yandere husband's arm. Your man refused to turn his head around and face his son; he was actually scared of what Henry would do to him.

"Oh, hi Brad. Did you happen to see the man that was hitting on my mom over there?" He gestured to you, still standing far away.

"Wait, what?" Yandere husband tensed up, swiveled his head around, and yanked his sunglasses off to take a good look at you with a scowl. "What man, Henry? I don't see anyone—"

"Aha! Busted!" Henry exclaimed and kicked his father in the shins. "How dare you try to stalk us? I am trying to have some quality time with Mom!"

Yandere husband groaned and clutched his leg. "What is wrong with you—"

"Give me your pretzel bites!" Henry demanded, opening his hand. "You don't deserve those." He tsked and snatched the cup out of his father's hand.

[skzdarlings]

the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

-

The camper van was the best idea you ever had.  It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight. 

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry.   It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed.  You love it more than anything in this world. 

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work.  Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?”  Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain. 

“Yes,” Changbin says.  He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt.  He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job. 

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy.  Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves.  Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations.   Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.  

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van.  The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced.  Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion.  It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one. 

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge.  So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress. 

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”  

“Yah! Rude woman!  You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point.  “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.” 

“I’m not a nerd!”  You definitely are.  You stare at the cocktail dress morosely.  “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things!  That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says. 

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say. 

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning. 

“How charming?” he teases, cocky.  “Describe it to me.” 

“Shut up.”  You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered.  “I can’t go in there.  People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room.  We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.” 

“That won’t happen,” Minho says.   His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening.  “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”  

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face.  His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.  

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho.  It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala.  To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning.  The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face.  He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin.  There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face.  He is practically glowing. 

He knows he looks good.  His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions.  You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh. 

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you. 

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross.  You hit him with the cocktail dress again. 

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once.  “At least no one will be looking at me.” 

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter. 

You like dressing up so this part is no problem.  The problem with parties is other people.  You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.   

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game.  It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once.  You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that.  Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat. 

You open the curtain, scowling.  You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you.  But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho.  Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest.  His expression gets very serious when he looks at you.  He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further. 

“Turn around,” he says.  

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else. 

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching.  Minho tips his head like he is studying something. 

“Thank you,” Minho says. 

You face them again, hot in the face.  You cross your arms angrily. 

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow.  “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious.  “It’s a good one.  You should be proud.” 

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk.  He catches it smoothly. 

“Can we just go already?”  You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van. 

It is very strange being on this side of the operation.  You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones.  It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat. 

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI.  You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around.  It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel.  You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there.  You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.” 

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.  

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman.  You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can.  Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks.  First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring.  Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system. 

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards.  It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night.  “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.  

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice.  You think it is directed at both you and Changbin.  He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look.  “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face.  It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws.  They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine. 

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says.  He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips.  “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.”  You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine.  He rests his hand on your nape.  “Look sick,” he says.  “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.” 

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party.  Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.  

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease.  You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub.  Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length.  It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling.  There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play.  You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing.  It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors.  You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers.  You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code. 

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply. 

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says.  “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

 “What!”  You start to panic immediately.  “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!”  Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders.  He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help. 

“We’re good,” Minho says.  “It’s just a waiter, not security.” 

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say. 

“By a waiter?”  Minho asks.  He gives your shoulders another squeeze.  “Is he going to beat us with a baguette?  Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves.  Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms.  You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck. 

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says. 

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head. 

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin.  He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand. 

“What will work?” you ask. 

“Distraction,” Minho says.  You just look at him with confusion. 

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver.  Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart.  You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness.  You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently.  His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder. 

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you.  Just do what I say, okay?” 

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?”  Changbin asks. 

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho. 

It’s the truth.  You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through.  Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there.  They have never let you down.  You trust them with anything and everything. 

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.  You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different.  He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead.  Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side.  He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips. 

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle.  “You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation.   It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips. 

“Waiter is thirty seconds away.  You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says.  “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again.  This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open. 

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says.  “Let your shoulders drop.  Minho has you, it’s okay.” 

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were.  You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax.  Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply. 

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay?  Put your hands on his shoulders.  Higher, baby, go around his neck.  Just like that.  Let him lead you.” 

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies. 

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?”  Changbin says.  “Minho.”  

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do.  Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his.  It arches your back.  Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair. 

“God,” Changbin says.  The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you.  It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath.  “You both look hot.  Fuck.” 

Changbin takes a steadying breath.  You and Minho look at each other.  You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning.  It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth. 

“Do it back,” Changbin says.  “You want him to fuck you, baby.  Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter.  Isn’t it?  You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching.  In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter.  You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight.  His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed.  He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours.  He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head. 

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says.  “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.” 

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure.  Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him.  He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you.  Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction.  Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you. 

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real.  When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you.  Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you.  It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering. 

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips. 

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says.  “Kiss him like you mean it.  Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat.  You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want.  Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him.  “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same.   You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night.  Need it so bad.  Please.  Want you inside me.  Want my mouth on you.  Come in me.  Come on me.  Take me, please.  I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am?  Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.” 

Then someone is clearing their throat.  Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective. 

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says.  “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.” 

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment.  You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you. 

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over.  He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry.   He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder. 

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess.  It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job.  Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open. 

Minho joins you a minute later.  Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you.  Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside.  You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall.  He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you.  You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.   

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver.  You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy. 

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle.  “Good work, team,” he says. 

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being.  It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.  

You get inside the storeroom.  You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop.  You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work. 

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says. 

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye.  He smiles at you.  “I agree,” he says. 

Your heart starts skipping beats again.  You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze. 

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little.  You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it. 

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work.  You manage to disarm most of the storeroom.  The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all.  A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments. 

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam. 

“Got it?”  Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit.  “Always,” he says, smirking. 

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it.  His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you.   Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid. 

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one.   He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move.  “Gotta agree.” 

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease.  He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel.  It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him. 

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot.  Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume. 

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile. 

You pack your fold out bags with your selections.  One key to success is never being overly greedy.  You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.    

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul.  Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket.  He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place.   When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling.  You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit.  There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you.  Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.  

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet.  You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire.   You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing.  He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.   

You smile at him.  A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair.  The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder.  You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close. 

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences.  You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction. 

“Hey!” one shouts.  “What are you doing out here?” 

You and Minho look over, then at each other.  There is no time for conversation.  You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders. 

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again.  You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk. 

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view.  The door slides open and Changbin jumps out.  You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.  

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding.  “I agree,” he says. 

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her.  Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul. 

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair.  You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges.  You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room.  By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days.  You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates. 

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax.  Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow. 

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror.  Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself.   You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home.  You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs.  It is suggestive but arguably casual.  You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right?  Sure.  Sure.  Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said.  Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help.  Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade. 

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination.  You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room.  You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up.  They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy.  They look very casual and very surprised.  Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn.  Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again.  “I am… I am… dressed.  For bed.  My bed.  For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now.  I am going to that bed, now, like this.  You can… join me.  If you want.  If you don’t want, then, okay.  Hello.  And.  Goodbye.  Bye.” 

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed. 

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet.  You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash.  They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom.  You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other. 

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi,” Changbin replies. 

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer.  You cannot think of what to say or do next.  You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous.  Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again. 

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low. 

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest.  “Thank you.” 

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all.  You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them. 

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm.  Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher.  You continue to stare at them. 

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you.  He holds out his hand. 

“Breathe, baby,” he says.  “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand.  He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier.  He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you. 

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me.  You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho.  His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye.  You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding. 

“Always,” you say. 

“Good,” Changbin says. 

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside.  You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you.  He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him.  Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear. 

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours.  “Listen to my voice, okay?” 

You nod, light-headed but eager. 

“Good,” Changbin says.  “Come sit in my lap.  Over here.” 

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around.  You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms.  He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs.   You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure.  Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast. 

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you. 

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?”  Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.  

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly.  He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says.  He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer.   Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips.  “Touch him baby,” Changbin says.  “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see.  You can feel Changbin too, hard under you.  Their sweatpants do little to disguise it. 

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats.  Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch.  It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down.   This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers.  Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth. 

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too.  The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms.  Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed.  He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand.  You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs.  Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room.  He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you.   You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you. 

Then they do.  Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear.  You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged. 

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you.  Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look.  Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering.  He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you.  Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.  

The music is still playing in the next room.   The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs. 

“I love you guys,” you say.  It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care.   You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys.   You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep. 

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side. 

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says.  “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely. 

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger.  You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord. 

“I agree,” Minho says.  He kisses your temple.  “I know how criminals work,” he adds.  “You’re not getting stolen away from us.” 

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh.  You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always. 

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father, breakups

Part 8:

The backseat of the car feels like it's closing in on you as Alexios, your driver, pulls away from the curb. Your chest tightens and you feel so overwhelmed. Your emotions are getting the better of you and before you can stop it, you break down in tears. Sobs violently wrack your body as your mind keeps thinking about being betrayed by Coriolanus.

Your loud cries have a negative effect on your son, Cassian. The baby starts crying as a result of hearing your loud sobs. Cassian's wails get louder and louder as the chauffeur steers the car out of the high-end shopping district of Capitol City.

Alexios looks back at you and the baby via the rearview mirror and he can't help, but to be concerned. You're both crying and he’s not sure what to do. Should he keep driving? Should he ask if you're okay? Nothing happened that he's aware of to trigger off your crying jag. Your driver/bodyguard is inwardly panicking because he has no idea why you're having a meltdown in the back of the car. A meltdown that's causing your baby to fuss loudly as well.

Looking between the road and the rearview mirror, the driver hesitantly asks, “Mrs. Snow, are you alright?”

Hearing your baby's wailing paired with the driver's inquiry of your well being snaps you out of your tears. Your son needs you to calm him down; to soothe him, so you quickly take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. “I'm fine, Alexios. Just a bit tired and overwhelmed from shopping with the baby.” You lie to your driver while moving a shaky hand to comfort your crying son.

Alexios nods, only to assure you, “We'll be at the penthouse in a few minutes.”

You thank him while soothing your son. The rest of the ride home didn't take long; you managed to comfort Cassian and get him to calm down before the car even pulled up to the curb of your building.

“Ma’am, where would you like me to place your shopping bags?” Alexios asks while helping you and your son out of the car.

“You can put them in the master bedroom.” You told your driver as he shut the car door and popped the trunk.

Pulling Cassian's pram out of the trunk, your chauffeur told you, “I'd be more comfortable placing the bags in the foyer or the main room, Mrs. Snow.” Unfolding the pram and gesturing for you to place the baby in it, Alexios proclaimed, “The master bedroom is your husband's domain as a man, not mine.”

“Okay, then place the bags in the foyer and I'll bring them into the master bedroom once I'm done putting Cassian down for his nap.” You tell the driver while placing your son into his pram.

Once your son's settled in the pram, you wheel him over to the large double doors of your building’s lobby. The driver's right behind you, only to hold the door open for you to walk inside. As you head towards the elevator bank, Alexios goes to retrieve your endless number of shopping bags from the trunk of the car.

You feel a bit tense as you wait for the elevator to arrive. You know that you have to keep it together for your son; that you can't have another breakdown like the one you succumbed to in the car, but it's easier said than done. You feel so heartbroken, helpless, and lost. Coriolanus made you out to be a fool. He played you like a fiddle, making you believe every word he said.

But now…

Well…

Now that you caught him red handed with another woman (Livia Cardew of all people!) you know that things are over between the two of you. You can't carry on with him; put your own rocky marriage in jeopardy when Coryo doesn't truly value you or your love.

The ding of the elevator doors sliding open breaks you from your mental musings. Quickly, you wheel Cassian's pram into the elevator. And much to your surprise, your driver's right behind you with an ungodly amount of bags hanging from his limbs. In fact, he's carrying so many shopping bags that he looks like a Christmas tree covered in ornaments, garland, and tinsel.

“Are those all of my bags?” You ask, taken aback on the amount of bags being toted by Alexios.

“Yes, Mrs. Snow, these are all of your bags.” Alexios confirms while you press the buttons to close the door and for the 12th floor.

Grandma'am was still taking her afternoon nap whenever you entered the penthouse. You also realized that you're alone; that Coriolanus was still out- most likely with that Cardew shrew. Good, not like you're in the mood to deal with him right now anyways.

You parked the pram in the foyer and took Cassian out of it, all the while Alexios was setting down a pile of bags by the front door of the penthouse. You thanked your driver for his help before bringing Cassian to his nursery for a feeding and his late afternoon nap.

Cassian has a hearty appetite, so you didn't have any problems nursing him. In fact, the baby ate eagerly. He also went to sleep almost instantly after his meal. For being a couple of weeks old he truly was a good baby. Didn't fuss too much; was easy to tend to.

Once the baby was down, you brought all of the shopping bags to your master bedroom. Somehow, while unpacking the bags, you managed to hold it together. Well, you're still an emotional wreck while hanging up the clothes you bought, but at least you're not crying your eyes out anymore.

But you can't afford another crying jag, you have a baby depending on you to take care of him. You have to be strong and push your feelings of hurt and betrayal aside in order to be the best possible mother you can be to Cassian.

And when you brought the few bags full of Cassian's items to the nursery to put them away, you're tense.

Very tense.

You manage to put all of Cassian's new outfits and toys up without shedding a single tear. But, you're wound tighter than an 8 day clock tho. You're very on edge, all because of what you accidently discovered this afternoon at the coffee shop.

You can't help, but to wonder if you did something wrong to make Coriolanus seek out that bitch, Livia Cardew. Maybe you should've pushed aside your emotional discomfort and just given him a couple of blowjobs? Then maybe he'd still be faithful to you. But, if not being able to fuck fo 6 weeks is the reason why he's cheating then maybe the relationship’s fickle; wasn't as strong and loving on his end- like he claims it to be.

You're broken out of your thoughts by Grandma'am’s voice echoing out in the penthouse with the simple question of, “Y/N, dear, are you home?”

“Yes, Grandma'am, I'm home. I'm just finishing up putting Cassian's things away.” You call back, assuring your mother-in-law that you're fine.

“I'll be waiting for you in the main room, dear.” Grandma'am told you, so you wouldn't be searching the entire house for her.

And a few minutes later you walk into the main room with a hatbox in your hands. “I got you something, Grandma'am.” You announce, coming up to the elderly woman that's become more of a mother to you then your own mother.

“Oh, Y/N, you didn't have to do that.” Grandma'am lightly protested with a soft smile as you placed the hatbox onto her lap.

Taking a seat next to her, you explain, “I know, but I wanted to get you something as a thank you for being supportive during my pregnancy and baby blues.”

Nodding, she lifts the lid of the box. She lets out a tiny gasp upon seeing a gold satin turban with a gold and diamond sun broach in the middle twisted part. Pulling the beautiful turban out of the box, she gratefully smiles, “Thank you, dear. It's beautiful and I can't wait to wear it.”

“I was hoping that you'd like it.” You admitted to Grandma'am as she placed the turban back in the box; setting it aside.

“Did you get something for Crassus?”

Of course she'd ask you that…

With a sigh, you shake your head and admit, “No, I didn't know what to get him.”

Grandma'am pats your hand while assuring you, “Next time we'll go shopping together; find something real nice for that son of mine you call your husband.”

You smile and nod, silently thanking her.

Crassus came home about 15 minutes before dinner, as was his routine now, and took a seat in the living room with you. Grandma'am, like she does every night, excused herself to go inquire about dinner from the cook. She did that every night when Crassus arrived in order to give you, him, and the baby some family time.

Coriolanus came home about an hour earlier and went straight to his room after giving both you and Grandma'am a curt greeting. In fact, you're dreading having to eat dinner with him tonight. A part of you wishes that he didn't come home at all, that he stayed out. But, of course, that wish went unfulfilled.

Anyways, once Crassus was sitting with you in the main room he went about the routine he created for the two of you. He asked about your day while watching Cassian nearby in his baby swing. And, of course, you told your husband about your shopping trip with the baby. But you left out the part about running into Coriolanus at the coffee shop, he didn't need to know about that.

Crassus thought that an afternoon shopping would've made you a bit happier than you were. He noticed that you're a bit tense; it's concerning because you seemed to be in a good mood lately. He decides that he'll ask your driver if you ran into anyone or if anything happened while on your shopping trip.

“Perhaps next time you go shopping mother can go with you?” Crassus suggested while subtly eying the clock to see if it was close to dinner time yet.

“Oh, I already talked to her about it and we agreed that we'll go shopping together with Cassian next time.” You tell Crassus, earning an approving smile from him.

“I’m glad that you're getting along with mother, Petal.” Crassus admitted right as Coriolanus walked out of the hallway and into the main room with a pissy look painted on his face.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Coriolanus asked, his eyes narrowed at how close you're sitting with his father. Hmm…seems like he's jealous? But he doesn't have a right to be since he has Livia now.

“Grandma'am went to check a few moments ago.” You told your once lover, tone a bit tight.

“Sit down and wait, Coriolanus. It won't be much longer now.” Crassus ordered his firstborn.

“It better not be, father. I have a study group to attend in half an hour.” Coriolanus grumbled while taking a seat. One as far away from you and his father as he could be.

“Isn't that a bit late for a study group, son?” Crassus asked, his blonde brow arched up.

Yes, wasn't it? Well, the study group was actually a meet up with Festus and Hilarious at Pluribus’ club, but Crassus and you didn't need to know that. Coriolanus feels that you two thinking he's at a study group makes himself look better and more mature. That if you knew he had time for the club and not for you, well…But you can't blame him, he's a young man with needs. Needs that you're not fulfilling at the moment.

Coriolanus never was a choirboy and is only loyal to one person, himself.

“I'm meeting up with Festus and Hilarious to study for our finals. We decided to meet up after dinner since everyone has different schedules.”

“Ah…” Crassus nods. “Since when do the three of you have such taxing schedules?” Your husband countered your stepson, causing the younger blonde to look like he's about to swallow his teeth.

But before Coriolanus could reply, Grandma'am strolls into the room with the announcement of, “The cook’s ready to serve dinner.”

Well, looks like dinner saved Coriolanus from having to pull a believable lie out of his ass.

Dinner was quiet, but tense. Crassus picked it up right away that you seem upset about something. Also, the way that Coriolanus keeps giving you hard glances here and there makes him believe that something's wrong. That something happened.

The war hero truly believes that something transpired between you and his son. Why else would Coriolanus be eying you with a hardness in his baby blues? Any other time his son's giving you pathetic puppy dog eyes. But not tonight.

Grandma'am’s eating her roasted chicken while ignoring the awkward silence in the dining room. You don't get to be her age without learning to ignore a thing or two, including awkwardness at meals. As long as the uncomfortable silence doesn't turn into an argument that'll ruin her dinner, Grandma'am is totally fine with eating and ignoring the big elephant in the room.

Crassus on the other hand isn't the type to ignore the big elephant in the room. Unlike his mother, he's not putting a doily on the elephant in the room’s butt and acting like it's not there. No, the general's going to approach it.

Turning his attention to you, Crassus asks, “Is something wrong, Petal? You seem a bit tense.”

“Oh, nothing's wrong. Really, I'm fine, just a bit tired from shopping this afternoon.” You lie because you can't tell your husband the truth. No, he'd never understand that you're tense and agitated because you caught his son, who you've been having an affair with, cheating on you while out at a coffee shop. Yea…that'd go over like a lead balloon…

“Alright, as long as you're fine I won't pry.” Crassus told you despite every fiber of his being begging him to pry.

But he'll drop the matter for now, only because he senses that you're not comfortable speaking about it- or should he say around his son. Crassus decides that he'll ask your driver, Alexios, about your outting tomorrow. Surely your driver/bodyguard has an insight on what's troubling you. And if not, well…he doesn't want to think about that possibility.

Coriolanus' icy eyes dart over to your form, gazing at you harshly. Almost as if he's silently daring you to bring up the subject of him being rather cozy with Livia Cardew in the local coffee shop. It's as if he wants you to acknowledge your pain, your broken heart at seeing him with somebody else, at the dinner table; in front of his father, Crassus. But you won't give him the satisfaction. In fact, you refuse to meet his gaze and opt to stare down at your plate instead.

Crassus noticed how his son's hard glances at you are making you nervous; are causing you to stare at your plate while picking at your food with your tightly clenched fork. He doesn't like what these tiny details are implying. How they're making light of a pressing suspicion he's had about Coriolanus and you for a while now.

Looking at his gold Rolex on his wrist, Crassus pretends to be concerned about his son's plans. “Coriolanus, shouldn't you be going soon?” Looking at his younger doppelganger, he says, “You don't want to be late for your study group, do you?”

Looking down at his own wrist watch, Coriolanus nods. “Yes, I should get going.” Putting his fork down, he apologizes properly for his sudden departure with a charming, “I'm so sorry to be rushing off in the middle of our meal, but I have a study group with Festus Creed and Hilarious Heavensbee that's due to start soon and I don't want to be late.”

“Oh, Coriolanus, don't you worry. You go on and tend to your studies.” Grandma'am said in a tone that showed she was proud of her grandson's studious nature. If only she knew the truth about his ‘study group'.

“Don't stay out too late studying, Coriolanus.” Crassus told his son as the younger blonde stood from the table. It was evident in the stern, deep tone of his voice that Crassus' remark had a double meaning to it.

Coriolanus clearly picked up on the double edged sword that was his father's words. So much so, that he just nodded as scurried off. Secretly, Coriolanus feared that his father had figured out that he was hanging out at the club; would tell you about it. That's the last thing he wants you to know. It's bad enough that you accidentally stumbled upon him and Livia on a coffee date, but if you found out about his clubbing…well…

Coriolanus fears that he won't be able to successfully lie his way out of that. No, not with you acting all out of sorts lately.

But does that slight fear stop him from taking off to meet up with Festus and Hilarious? No, no it doesn't.

While Coriolanus was living it up at the club with his friends, Festus and Hilarious, you were at home spending a quiet evening with Grandma'am, Crassus, and Cassian. You played a couple hands of gin rummy with Grandma'am before going to the nursery to check on the baby. And once Grandma'am retired to bed, you spent some time with your husband.

It wasn't much, just watching some talent show on CapitolTV and then the news before heading to bed. The atmosphere was quiet, but heavy between you and Crassus as you got ready for bed. He didn't bring it up, knowing you'd probably wave off his inquiry, but it did bother him.

Crassus thought that he was making progress with you; that he was making you happy. But now…well…he's not sure anymore. You seem to be tense and weighed down by something. Something that wasn't bothering you before and he doesn't like it.

He walks out of the large walk-in closet, donning his navy silk pajamas, and makes his way to your shared bed. He gets into it only to wait for you to emerge from your side of the closet. And when you do walk out of it, Crassus can't help, but to notice how motherhood has matured you- has given you softer curves and fuller breasts. He notices that, although you're so much younger then him, you have a womanly glow about you as your silky nightgown hugs your body in all the right places.

How has he never noticed this before? Was he truly so wrapped up in work, stuck in his own head, that he never noticed the beauty that you, his wife, truly is? Crassus prides himself on being a calculated and tactful man, but it seems when it comes to you he's anything but.

You don't notice your husband's icy blue eyes melting as they follow your every move while you cross the room, taking your silk robe that matches your nightgown to drape over your vanity bench- something you do every night in order to easily grab it whenever you need to leave the room to check on the baby, etc. But why would you notice the way Crassus is looking at you; that it's different then every other night? Softness isn't something that's easily found between you and your husband. The fact that he's starting to feel something for you doesn't register to you, but why would it? It's not like he's ever made any intentions of wanting more than a surface level marriage.

“Come to bed, Petal.” Crassus orders, folding over your side of the duvet for you.

Turning away from your vanity, you simply tell him, “I'll be right there, Crassus.”

Your husband watches you as you make your way over to bed. His eyes roam over your body as the bed dips slightly while you get into it. As he does every night, he gives you a lingering peck on the lips while saying, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Crassus.” You reply, as soon as the kiss ends, before laying down and pulling the duvet up around your shoulders.

You feel your husband settle next to you, only for him to switch off the lamp on his bedside table; engulfing the room in darkness. You stare at the wall in the dark, listening to your husband's breathing grow shallow as he falls asleep. Crassus is a light sleeper, but he usually falls asleep rather quickly.

You're secretly waiting for the sound of the front door opening paired with the faint echo of Coriolanus’ Florsheims clunking against the floor because you need to confront him about what you saw in the coffee shop this afternoon. You can't let it go. You need to tell him how you feel. You need…closure.

You're not sure how long you've been staring at the wall in the dark for whenever you finally hear Coryo get in. Your breath hitches and your heart seizes tightly in your chest. It's finally time to confront your stepson.

You gingerly pull aside your blanket and slowly rise from the bed, careful not to wake your husband. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Crassus is still asleep, before rushing to grab your rob from your vanity bench. Quickly, you toss it on and leave your master bedroom.

Your bare feet patter against the marble floor as you make your way down the hallway towards Coriolanus' room. When you reach it, you don't even knock- just open the door and walk right in.

You're met with the sight of a disheveled Coriolanus. His button up shirt's a bit wrinkled, fly of his pants is undone, his pale skin’s flushed, platinum blonde curls are messy, and his baby blues slightly glassy. Clearly, he wasn't out studying. The faint smell of liquor, posca to be precise, emitting from his pores is proof that he was out at the club with Festus and Hilarious instead of at a study group with the boys.

Seeing you standing before him in his room in your robe and nightgown brings a cocky, lustful grin to his face. Coriolanus feels like the cat that got the cream, seeing you enter his room right after he got home proves to him that you've been up all night waiting for him. That you still want him; need him.

But Coriolanus is wrong about that. So very very wrong.

You keep a considerable distance between you and the younger Snow while announcing, “We need to talk, Coriolanus.”

“Oh, mommy, we both know you didn't come here just to ‘talk’.” Coriolanus coos, moving to close the distance between you.

You back away from him before his outstretched hand can touch you, causing a frown to form on his face. But before he can ask what's wrong, you bombard him with the reason why you came. The million dollar question of, “How long have you been cheating on me with Livia Cardew for, Coriolanus?”

Coriolanus blanched, as if you just threw a pot of boiling hot water in his face. How dare you ask him that? He's declared his love for you, hasn't he? Cemented it by giving you his child, right? So, shouldn't you be lovingly opening your arms for him; taking care of his needs? You shouldn't be asking him about Livia Cardew, it's not your place to ask.

Oh, and he's going to let you know that too.

Coriolanus’ brows furrow deeply as he sharply tells you, “Don't worry about Livia Cardew, she's nothing to you, mommy.”

“I'm not stupid, Coriolanus. I have eyeballs, I saw you two pawing all over each other at Sweet Brew.”

“We weren't pawing all over each other, we were studying for a class.”

“Oh, so is that what you call your dates and outings these days? Studying?” You sarcastically asked him. Shaking your head, you scoff, “I heard what you said to her, Coriolanus. You called her ‘my darling’.”

“Y/N, I think you're overreacting-” Coriolanus began to say, only for you to cut him off with a frantic, “I'm not overreacting. You're cheating on me and I'm done.”, while angrily waving your hands in the air.

A scowl crossed the blonde's face. “What do you mean you're done?”

Did he really just ask you that?

Folding your arms over your chest, you give him the answer of, “You're cheating on me with that bitch, Livia, so we're over.”

“Livia means nothing to me, but you do, mommy. We can't be over.”

“We're over and done, Coriolanus.”

“And what? You think my father suddenly cares about you-” Flinging his arm in the general direction of the nursery, Coriolanus barks, “about Cassian?” His cerulean eyes turned into dark soulless stones as he snarled, “My father will never care about, let alone love you and the baby. He's just bored; amusing himself by toying with you. But he'll grow tired of it; go back to ignoring you.” His lush lips curled up cruelly as he added in, “And he'll do it to our son too.”

Coriolanus' words cut deep. They also wound your already fragile soul. But if that wasn't enough, the final blow to your shattered heart was when he told you in a sickeningly sweet, syrupy tone, “When my father tosses you aside like trash you'll be crawling back to me on your knees, begging me for a crumb of attention.” His face, once so angelic, morphs into an unreadable mask as he taunts, “But I don't know if I'll take pity on you, the mother of my child: my son, when that day comes.” A dark chuckle sounds deep in the back of his throat. “You say you're done with me because of what you think you saw between Livia Cardew and I, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to be a fool in love for you once again when the time comes that you realize your mistake in choosing my father over me.”

Hot, salty tears are rolling down your cheeks profusely. His cruel words has you crying so badly that your vision's blurry. How can Coriolanus claim to love you, but turn around and act like this? Say such hurtful things?

“Stop crying, Y/N.” Coriolanus snaps out in frustration. “All you ever do anymore is cry. I'm quite sick of it.”

Hastily wiping your tears away with your hands, you tell him, “I'm sorry you're sick of my crying, but I can't help it.” You feel as if you need to leave, as if you'll suffocate if you stay in the room with him any longer. Taking a few calming breaths, you say, “I'm done, Coriolanus. I hope you treat Livia better than me.”, before rushing out of the room.

You're lucky that the argument between you and Coriolanus didn't echo throughout the hallway, waking Crassus and Cassian- who are both light sleepers. But, when you return to your master bedroom and get back into bed, your movements stir your husband. He groggily asks about the baby and you assure him that everything’s fine; to go back to sleep.

But everything's not fine. No, right now you're suffering from a broken heart. First love and first heartbreaks sure do have a way of draining the life out of somebody's soul, that's for sure.

Your husband doesn't need to know that though. The less Crassus knows of your shame the better.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @nayveetbhh @someonefromwutheringheights @shellybellysstuff @solatiiium @ryomen6

[sadhours]

gamer boyfriend with kurt

kurt x female reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), no use of y/n, awkward dirty talk, p in v (unprotected)

“Ya know, if you actually stream the gameplay and not just your face, people might watch,” you tell him as you sit back on the bed, plugging in your phone.

Kurt looks down at his lap and then back up at you, looks like he’s connecting the dots and you’re right. Like he’s never thought of that before. He pouts, “Yeah well maybe when the money from Spree gets to my bank, I’ll look into it.”

You huff, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can watch him. You have no idea what game he’s playing, video games aren’t really your thing. But it’s a bunch of dudes running around with guns. You’d have a better chance guessing if the games were listed on a board and you threw a dart at it. Who you think is Kurt’s character isn’t very good, though. The dudes running around in circles and not shooting. Gets shot several times in the few minutes you’re watching.

“Are you winning?” you ask, bored.

“No,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pick up your phone, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly when some porn pops up and out of curiosity, you don’t keep scrolling. An idea pops into your head and you reach your foot out to poke Kurt’s thigh. “I know how to get some attention online,” you purr.

“How?!” he asks excitedly, glancing briefly at you and then his eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking to my girlfriend, not you guys!” he screeches into the mic. Then his eyes roll, “Yes, she’s real.”

You giggle, stroking your foot up his thigh and back down. His cheeks flush as he continues in the mic, “We haven’t had a chance yet.” He sounds embarrassed and you can assume they’re asking if he’s slept with you, in not so nice words. And you two haven’t. Not for a lack of trying on your end. Hell, you would’ve blown him in his Spree the first time you met. Granted, you were drunk but you thought Kurt was cute and really, you would’ve invited him in if he wasn’t so awkward. So you left him your number on a napkin but he never called. And for about two weeks you wracked your brain trying to remember his instagram handle that he repeatedly rattled off to you and your drunken friends. They thought he was cringey but something about Kurt intrigued you. He was sweet. And really goddamn good looking under that mop of greasy hair and clothes his mom picked out for him.

She was really the reason you guys hadn’t done much more than rushed handjobs in his Prius. Kurt’s mom was… protective. Babied the hell out of Kurt. Treats him like a teenager and not a 23 year old man. The door has to stay open when you’re over. Like that would stop two adults from fooling around.

“We’re busy, I don’t know,” Kurt’s mumbling interrupts your thoughts. “No! She wants to. She definitely wants to.”

You get up from his bed and get yourself between his thighs, purring into the mic, “Oh, I really want to.”

Kurt’s face lights up, cheeks flushing as they swell with a bright smile. You giggle, and close his laptop, ending his stream. Something like this will get him banned, and you’re pretty sure he’d cry over it. He starts to protest, “Wait! What are you—“ it dies in his throat as you palm at his crotch over his pants.

His eyes roll back the harder you rub and yours glance up towards the door, making sure his mom isn’t being nosy. But she works a lot so when she gets home, she tends to pass out watching TV. You’re probably in the clear as long as Kurt keeps quiet. Your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper before grabbing his waistband and tugging his pants down. You can see the swell of his dick chubbing up in his briefs and you rub your nose against him, looking up to see his pretty, full lips falling open. He’s gripping the controller close to his chest and his eyes are on you. Sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Mouthing at his boner, you hook your fingers into his briefs and start pulling them down his thighs. Kurt’s impressive length flops out and rises with arousal, filling out quickly. Kurt hasn’t admitted he’s a virgin, but you’ve come to the conclusion he is. Which is a first for you and it’s exciting. The thought that you’ll be his first is intoxicating and has you soaking through your panties. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him slow and tight, mouth watering at the sight of it. His cocks huge. Pretty. Thick and long with a pink head and it gets wet. Never seen a man leak so much. You lick his slit, giddy when he whines and grips the Xbox controller tighter.

“Maybe I am,” he mumbles into the microphone and smirks and you laugh softly, squeezing his dick tighter. More precum bubbles out of his slit and you’re quick to lick it up.

“Tell them, Kurt,” you bite your lip, “Tell them what I’m doing.”

He looks shy, eyebrows raising as his cheeks ruddy even more, “She’s literally touching my dick right now.”

He whispers it, barely audible and you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking softly as you look up at him. Wide eyed. Kurt whines again and then says, “I’m not lying!”

“Shh,” you hush him when you pull off his dick, “We have to be quiet.”

“Sorry,” his eyes are so so sweet and apologetic. You need him. Can’t handle it anymore. You stand, pushing down your leggings and underwear before climbing into his lap. He grunts, looking at you all wide eyed and confused but it just spurs you on more. You’re almost feral for it. For him. For Kurt.

“Shh,” you repeat, “Need you, now.”

You grip his cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on him. You whine from it and Kurt moans, loud and shaky. Slapping your palm over his mouth, you look at him with wide eyes before looking over to the doorway.

“Kurt… keep it down, baby. Okay?” you whisper, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes. He nods, and you grab the controller, dropping it to the floor and guiding his hands to hold your waist. He grips you tightly, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb before lifting up and slowly lowering back down on him. Kurt looks amazed, eyes and mouth open in absolute awe. You build a slow and gently rhythm, wanting this to last at least five minutes.

You connect your lips to his, pushing the headphones off his head and they fall around his neck. Riding him steadily, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue along his lower lip. But Kurt’s Kurt so he doesn’t get it and you have to press your thumb to his chin and pull his mouth open. When you lick inside his mouth, he moans and digs his fingers into the small of your back. Thank God his cocks so long, it prods at your g-spot perfectly, hooked just right. You’re sure you can cum if you time it properly. So you kiss him filthier before picking up the pace, sucking on his tongue and licking against the roof of his mouth. Kurt’s completely falling apart, whimpering and messy. You bounce in his lap, adjusting the angle to ensure he’s slamming against your spongy bit just so.

His gaming chair squeaks under the weight, rhythmically mirroring your thrusts. You gasp, pulling back from the kiss and whispering in his ear, “Talk to me, baby. Make me me cum.”

“Oh!” he whines, “okay, uh… I’m fucking you. With my dick.”

It’s almost sweet and dorky enough to work, it makes you smile and you nod as you whisper back, “Yeah, baby. You are, your cock is so big. Filling me so deep, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “Filling your pussy up.”

“How’s my pussy feel, baby?” You coax him along, knitting your fingers in his hair, slowing your movements.

“Good. Really good,” he struggles to get stay quiet, voice wrecked and shaky, “It’s wet and so good.”

“Yeah?” you hum, kissing along his jaw, “You wanna cum in my pussy, baby?”

“I—fuck,” he grits out, wrapping his arms around your waist while he holds you still, spurts of hot cum shooting from him inside you.

Well, you tried. You nuzzle against him and repeatedly kiss his jaw as he rides out his bliss. “That’s it, Kurt. Fill me up.”

He lets out a pathetic sound, face all contorted as he thrusts his hips up at you. Then his arms fall to his sides while he lets out labored breaths. You keep kissing his face and stroking his hair.

“Let’s go to mine. And we can do that some more,” you say and Kurt laughs, full of excitement and disbelief.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[themultifanshipper]

lawsunoda smut plz

Even back in the junior series, Liam knew he wasn't completely straight.

He couldn't explore much though because of how it might put his career in jeopardy. But now he was in F1, and his attraction to men was becoming a serious problem.

Warnings: top yuki, both of them being absolute idiots, wet dreams and cold showers galore, coming in pants (TWICE), tension, Liam being so far in the closet his gaydar is broken, handjobs, blowjobs, first time getting fucked, cum eating, the pacing is atrocious but if I look at this anymore I will have a breakdown

Growing up, he'd often see his friends almost naked and find them just as (if not more) appealing than women.

He'd had silly crushes, and wet dreams, and even some wank-bank worthy fantasies that had kept him occupied on lonely nights, but nothing more than that.

And in this field it was imperative to keep this kind of thing a secret, in case someone got the idea of outing you to ruin your career.

He didn't dare try and find hookups or anything of that sort in case it got out.

So that part of him stayed well hidden.

He even got a girlfriend, who he liked very much, but it certainly had the added bonus of eliminating any suspicion.

Until Daniel Ricciardo broke his hand and he was promoted to full time Formula 1 driver.

George Russell, the head of the GPDA, took one look at him and said “If anyone gives you any trouble about being gay, you come to me. I don't tolerate any workplace discrimination against my fellow drivers”

Liam thanked him, but assured him he had a girlfriend, to which George just chuckled and replied:

“Yeah, we all have girlfriends mate”

He winked at him conspiratorially and walked off , leaving Liam red-faced and sweating at the implications.

Yuki was a pleasure to be around. He was a bit flirty, sometimes bordering on pushy, but he was nice outside of racing and they got along better than most teammates did.

They'd known each other a long time, being in RedBull's junior program and being roommates back in Milton Keynes before Yuki had moved to Italy.

Yuki knew about his… preferences, because on more than one occasion they'd gotten drunk and talked for hours about all sorts of things while under the influence of good booze and good pizza, in the safe space of their apartment.

But they never mentioned it otherwise, and Liam wasn't even sure Yuki remembered those conversations because he was a massive lightweight and was always incredibly hungover the next day.

That didn't change the fact that when Liam became his teammate, Yuki’s old crush came back in full force, and he followed him around like a lost puppy and tried to rile him up 24/7.

Liam soon realised, that Yuki flirted a lot more with him than any of the other drivers did with each other.

Hell the Ferrari drivers were bad enough, but Yuki took it to a whole new level.

It wasn't outright “I like you, I want to fuck” kind of flirting.

 It was more, “poke me and I'll poke you back until we wrestle and inevitably violently make out” kind of flirting.

Which was objectively worse for Liam because like any man, he wasn’t sure if Yuki was genuinely interested or if he was making up the whole thing in his head.

And if there's one thing more terrifying than being outed by a rival, it's being rejected and then outed by a friend.

The teasing continued throughout the season, Yuki getting bolder with every move.

Yuki had been pretty liberal for most of his life, never taking himself too seriously.

He wasn't exactly out, but most of the grid knew he liked to fool around with just about anyone, and he’d had a few male lovers so far.

None of them were as captivating as Liam though.

Liam hadn't got the memo however, because no matter how hard Yuki tried, he couldn't seem to get his intentions across to him.

Every time he tried to initiate his equivalent of gay chicken, (roasting Liam until he hopefully shut him up by kissing him), Liam would just laugh it off as friendly banter.

Yuki was going to have to try a different tactic. Perhaps a more direct approach would do the trick.

The opportunity arose in the form of a bad romcom trope coming to life.

The hotel they were staying in for the Vegas GP had got the reservation wrong.

Either that or the team had purposely booked a double room to cut on expenses.

It didn't matter because either way, Liam and Yuki were going to be sharing a bed for the next few nights.

That was fine. It was all fine.

Liam was a bit nervous but Yuki was secretly thanking the universe for this opportunity.

“No matter what happens, you can't fall in love with me” Liam said teasingly in front of the poor receptionist, who had just broken the news to them and handed them a singular key, but Yuki just smirked at him.

“Too late” he snatched the key from Liam's hand “I already jerk off every night thinking about you”

Liam choked on his spit as he followed him, quickly apologizing to the woman for Yuki's joke before scurrying away in embarrassment.

“Yuki you can't just say that!” His face looked like it had been painted rosso corsa as they crossed the threshold of their room.

“Why? It's true” Yuki laughed humourlessly.

Liam didn't pick up on it though, chuckling to himself as he nervously muttered Jesus Christ under his breath.

They shuffled around the room, pulling stuff out of their suitcases, taking turns showering, and ordering room service for dinner.

“Practice is going to be chaos tomorrow I reckon” Liam said as he chewed on a barely seasoned piece of chicken from his diet-compliant meal.

Yuki hummed in agreement, this was Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world after all.

“Who do you think is most likely to get married in the chapel?” Yuki asked after a few minutes silence.

“I don't know… maybe Lando and Oscar? But they're so shy around each other they'd have to be black out drunk” he laughed and Yuki giggled.

“Definitely, but I think Charles and Max are the ones that need it the most. They both have too many sticks up their asses”

They joked comfortably for a bit and for a while it felt like they were roommates again.

They got ready for bed, both quite tired from their day of travelling.

Yuki was just in a pair of boxers and Liam froze, staring at the extremely fit man in front of him.

He was obviously a lot more jacked than in their junior days, but Liam was taken by surprise at just how fucking thick the man was.

His arms… his chest… his thighs…

Yuki caught him staring and wrongly assumed it was because he was uncomfortable.

“Sorry… I always sleep in just boxers, is that okay?”

It was unreasonable to expect Liam to remember Yuki's sleeping habits from several years ago, but he still felt like a moron as his eyes roamed across the other man's body.

“Yeah, totally cool I'd just… forgotten. You know since… when we lived together… we had separate beds and stuff…” Liam gulped and pulled his own shirt off to avoid saying anything even more embarrassing.

Yuki laughed. “Yes, usually people sleep together before moving in with each other but…”  he winked and slid under the covers, sinking into the mattress and yawning.

“Yeah…” Liam's voice cracked and he followed suit, leaving as much space between their bodies as possible while facing away from the other man.

“Night Yuki” he said quickly, turning the lamp off on his bedside table.

“Goodnight Liam” Yuki sighed, doing the same and falling asleep within about a minute.

Liam just lay there, waiting for sleep to take him, as his mind wandered back to Yuki's body.

He could feel his body heat despite the space between them.

He thought about how Yuki had changed so much since their junior days.

Not just physically, he was a lot more confident, more assertive and more outgoing despite his rather shy nature.

He was also funny and hot, and really one of the best friends Liam had at the moment. Certainly the one he'd known the longest.

He managed to fall asleep sometime around 3, and his dreams consisted of short, jacked, faceless men doing all sorts of things to his body.

The person seemed so familiar, yet so unknown as his hands trailed down his back.

One minute he was on all fours, getting railed, the next he was on top, kissing down a toned pair of pecs as his hips slapped against hairy thighs wrapped around his waist.

Despite never having been with a man, it all seemed so incredibly real and natural to him, as if his subconscious was trying to tell him this was what he was craving.

Then suddenly he was on his knees, a pair of hands tangled in his hair holding his head still as the man forced his cock down Liam's throat. He drooled around it, greedily slurping at it like a slut.

“Fuck Liam, your mouth is so good”

The voice was far away and sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn't pay it any mind, he was concentrating on the task at hand: letting this man use him for his pleasure.

He couldn't breathe, head swimming as his throat was abused over and over, swallowing every last drop of the mystery man's cum.

He woke with a start.

The bed next to him was empty and the sun was barely rising, so the room was still mostly in darkness.

He checked the time… 5:29?

They didn't need to be in the paddock before 11… so why was Yuki in the bathroom taking a shower this fucking early?

Before he could ask himself too many questions he realised that he felt damp.

Not like, sweaty damp, more like a hormonal teenager that's just come in his fucking boxers damp.

He slid a hand into his underwear to check and… yep.

That must have been what woke him up.

And another startling realisation hit.

The dream he was having was very fuzzy, but there was no mistaking the voice of Yuki Tsunoda moaning his name as he fucked his mouth.

So he'd just come in his pants from dreaming about his friend fucking his throat…

He jumped out of bed just as the sound of the shower being turned off hit his ears.

Ripping his soiled underwear off as quickly as he could, and making use of his limited time to clean himself up as best he could, he raced against the clock to try and get another pair of underwear on before Yuki came out.

Luckily he managed it, and he greeted his teammate just as he turned around to see the door of the bathroom open to reveal a dripping wet Yuki with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips.

Liam went in the bathroom after him, feigning needing a piss just to get out of the awkwardness and avoid staring at his teammates dripping body for longer than was strictly appropriate.

The first thing he noticed was that there were none of Yuki's many products in the bathroom.

No shampoo, no body wash… so he'd just got himself wet?

The other thing was a lack of steam and condensation in the small tiled room.

Yuki had had a cold shower.

Liam knew very well that Yuki hated cold showers with a passion.

Unfortunately it was nearly 6 in the morning and his brain was too tired to make any kind of deduction so he did actually end up having a piss then went back to bed and fell almost straight back asleep.

Yuki however could not.

Over on his side of the bed the mood was more one of mild panic.

Yuki had taken a cold shower in the hopes of getting rid of his erection, caused by Liam, who had been moaning in his sleep and grinding his hips into the bed until he came, moaning Yuki's name.

Liam had seemed so uninterested by Yuki's advances that the man was unsure what to make of the situation and his mind raced until it was time to get up and go.

Media day was awkward, to say the least. They didn't really speak to each other much, but the interactions they did have were short and even the RB staff had noticed how jumpy they were being around each other.

That night, Yuki didn't show up at the hotel. He texted Liam saying he was staying with Pierre and not to wait up for him.

So that was it then. Yuki knew what Liam had done the night before and this was the end of their friendship.

Liam didn't get much sleep, and Yuki indeed stayed with Pierre, ranting about what had happened for hours on end, much to the annoyance of the frenchman.

“Yuki” Pierre sighed dramatically “you are so dumb. You obviously like each other and are too scared to admit it”

“Maybe… I will try and talk to him tomorrow”

“Great” Pierre huffed “Now can we please go to sleep?”

They bid each other goodnight, but Yuki's head was still full of unanswered questions.

P1 and P2 went fine. But at the end of the day they were both exhausted and ready to get as much rest as possible for the next day.

They slid into bed, on the same sides as before, barely speaking a word to each other before passing out.

This time when Liam woke with a start, it wasn't because he'd come in his pants, it was because Yuki was spooning him.

He felt a hardness pressing into his ass and didn't take long to figure out what it was.

Yuki was hard, and gently rocking against him in his sleep.

Liam was torn. Should he wake Yuki up and risk the older man being disgusted and ending their friendship then and there? Or should he do nothing and pretend it never happened?

Somehow with the second option he felt like he was taking advantage of Yuki, given how he felt about the man, but selfishly, he decided he didn't care.

If this was to be between only him and himself that was fine.

He arched his back and pushed himself back towards Yuki, to give him more to work with, which worked a treat.

Yuki’s arm that was draped over Liam's body shifted and tightened around his middle, unconsciously pulling Liam's hips back harder against his movements.

Liam let out a shuddery breath as he let it happen, indulging in the strength of the other man, letting Yuki use his body to get off, and he had to reach down and squeeze a hand around his own cock to avoid a replay of the other night.

He only had so many pairs of spare boxers.

He briefly wondered whether Yuki would come against him, whether it would wake him up or not, and whether Yuki would hate himself for it in the morning.

The universe decided to be even crueler than that.

Yuki moaned Liam's name instead.

Quite loudly. And Liam's dick throbbed.

Yuki was dreaming about him?

Was the man's subconscious on drugs?

Why the fuck was he having sex dreams about Liam?

Yuki continued the gentle movement of his hips, letting out soft whines against the back of Liam's neck.

After at least half an hour, and an increasing sense of urgency in Yuki's moans, Liam thought the older man was finally going to come in his pants.

What happened was much more mortifying.

Yuki's body jolted slightly and he froze completely, halting his movements and his moans as the silence became deafening.

Liam knew Yuki had woken up, but Yuki didn't know whether Liam was awake, so they both stayed like that, hard and internally panicking, trying to pretend to be sleeping, for the next several hours.

Well, obviously they were exhausted the next day and did terribly in qualifying, both of them getting knocked out in Q1.

“This has to stop it's not healthy” Pierre said after Yuki had turned up in his hotel room, yet again.

“You don't understand. I want to fuck a straight man, there is nothing more terrifying than that”

Pierre rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Yuki listen to me. Liam is not straight! It is obvious like the nose in the middle of the face but you refuse to see it”

“He has a girlfriend! He obviously does not want me!” Yuki whined and Pierre almost slapped him.

“Okay fuck this” he took his phone out and texted Liam to come over to his hotel, now.

Liam was a bit confused but he did as he was told, almost sprinting the short distance between the two hotels.

When Pierre opened the door he looked almost murderous.

“Tell Yuki you want him to fuck you, because you two are driving me mental. I am going to stay with Charles. Please don't get cum on the bed.”

And with that he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Liam stared at a mortified looking Yuki sitting on the bed.

“What is Pierre on about?” he asked tentatively.

Yuki sighed.

“I used to have a crush on you back when we were roommates, you know?”

Liam shook his head. “No I did not know that”

“And when you became my teammate this year it came back… And you told me before that you weren't completely straight but every time I have tried to flirt you have brushed me off so I assumed you don't want anything to do with me. Until the other night when you dreamed about fucking me”

Liam's jaw was on the floor at this point, and he blushed at the mention of that night.

He didn't quite know what to say, so the first thing that came out of his mouth didn't register in his brain until after he said it.

“Actually I was dreaming about you fucking my throat but yeah…” he corrected and they just stared at each other.

They didn't say anything for a long time, trying to decipher what this all meant.

After what felt like an eternity Yuki said:

“Can I please fuck your mouth?”

And Liam didn't hesitate, he dropped to his knees and crawled towards the bed.

“Please” he said, and Yuki groaned, rushing to get his pants down.

This was finally it.

Liam could have cried with relief as the salty taste of Yuki's precum hit his tongue.

He sank down to the base and Yuki choked on air as he watched Liam deepthroat him immediately.

Despite Liam never having been with a man, he’d tried and tested his gag reflex and had found out early on that he just didn't have one.

Yuki was the first lucky bastard to bear witness to that gift of nature.

The older man threaded his fingers through Liam's dirty blonde hair and held him in place while he thrusted his hips up into his waiting mouth.

Liam was in heaven, he was letting his throat be used for Yuki's pleasure and his cock was hard between his legs, so he squeezed a hand around himself.

He couldn't breathe because of how deep the other man was inside his throat, so Yuki pulled him off for a second, and stared at his hooded eyes and the line of spit linking his tip to Liam's swollen lips.

“My god Liam how many guys have you been practising on?”

“None” he rasped “You're my first”

He was about to take Yuki back into his mouth but the older man kept his head still and groaned.

“You have never been with a man?” he asked.

“Nopee…” Liam whined, trying to fill his mouth, but Yuki wasn't letting him. “Please, Yuki”

Yuki almost combusted on the spot.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck my mouth!” he cried impatiently.

Yuki didn't tease him any longer, he rubbed his tip on Liam's tongue teasingly before shoving himself back in to the base.

Liam moaned and his eyes rolled back into his skull as Yuki's balls slapped against his chin every time he buried himself in his throat.

He was floating, almost like in his dream, and his own cock was throbbing between his legs at the feeling of being used like this.

He shouldn't have been so turned on by a blowjob, but he could feel himself slowly edging closer to an orgasm as Yuki's hips stuttered.

“I’m going to come, where do you want it?” Yuki rasped.

Liam answered non-verbally by grasping his hips and shoving him as deep as he could down his throat, while looking up at Yuki with as much submissiveness as he could muster.

Yuki was a goner. The sight of his long time crush completely fucked out, greedily swallowing his cock was so fucking hot that he came down Liam's throat, toes curling at the sudden white hot pleasure coursing through his body.

Liam heaved in a breath as soon as his mouth was empty and it took him a second to realise he had in fact, come in his pants once again.

He was a grown man for fuck's sake.

Yuki had fallen backwards and was trying to catch his breath while staring at the ceiling, so thankfully, had not noticed.

Liam shuffled forwards on his knees and hugged Yuki's midriff, hiding his very red face.

The older man looked down and giggled. His hand went to stroke Liam's hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Do you want me to repay the favour?” he asked, as Liam's body shuddered.

“No…” he whined into Yuki's shirt “I already uhh… came”

His voice squeaked in embarrassment and Yuki simultaneously melted and twitched with arousal.

“You came from giving me a blowjob?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yeah…” Liam moaned pitifully.

The silence stretched on and Liam was worried that Yuki was weirded out so he opened his mouth to apologise for ruining everything.

But before he could get a word out, Yuki sat up and pulled Liam up into his lap.

Liam was so shocked by the fact that Yuki had just lifted him up like a child, he felt his cock twitch at the casual display of strength.

“Can I see?” Yuki asked breathlessly while his brain short-circuited.

Liam undid his pants and Yuki wasted no time sliding his hand in and wrapping a hand around his half hard cock.

The stickiness made his own semi throb and he pulled his hand out to inspect it.

Liam was holding his breath, surely he wasn't going to-

He was.

He did.

Yuki licked his hand clean of his cum, while making full eye contact.

He hummed at the taste and when he’d finished, he put his hand flat on Liam’s chest to feel his heart beat.

Liam gasped and his hips bucked, brushing against Yuki's rapidly growing bulge. They were both getting extremely turned on again, and the heat in the room was becoming almost suffocating.

Yuki's hand went back into Liam’s pants and curled around his cock once more, to start jerking him off slowly, aided by the slick remnants of his cum.

His other hand went to the back of Liam's head and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss.

It had been a long time coming. A very long time coming.

Yuki could taste himself on Liam tongue and he groaned, tightening his grip which made Liam groan in turn and wrap his arms around Yuki's neck.

As they made out, the hand on Liam's neck went down to his ass and squeezed at the supple flesh, making Liam whine into the kiss.

“Yuki, I need you to fuck me, now” he gasped.

Yuki grunted and turned them around so that Liam was now lying on the bed with his legs hanging off the edge.

Yuki made quick work of both of their clothes and spread Liam's legs, hungrily taking in the other man’s vulnerable state.

“Wait, have you done this before?” he asked, suddenly remembering what he’d said earlier.

Liam shook his head and grinned at him, crossing his hands behind his head, which distracted Yuki slightly because the movement made his biceps flex invitingly.

“Nope… you get the honour of deflowering the great Liam Lawson”

He wasn't sure where this sudden cockiness was coming from, but Yuki just rolled his eyes and went over to the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube he knew Pierre always carried around with him. (Don't ask)

The first finger pushing inside was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, Liam thought.

Yuki was very generous with the lube, determined to make Liam's first experience as comfortable as possible.

The second finger stretched him out a bit more, and he keened when Yuki accidentally brushed his prostate.

The new sensation sent a jolt up his spine and Yuki chuckled.

Soon enough he was ready, and his cock was angry and leaking all over his stomach.

Yuki somehow resisted the urge to lick it all up, instead he lined himself up and pushed in just an inch.

Liam moaned at the stretch and his hands gripped at the sheets.

“Relax Liam…” Yuki soothed him with a hand rubbing circles on his hip.

“Yes Yuki” he gasped and took a deep breath before the older man managed to push himself in further.

Once Yuki was fully sheathed, Liam could hardly breathe.

Yes it was his first time, but Yuki was big.

But he was also incredibly gentle, letting Liam adjust in his own time before starting to rock his hips in a slow rhythm.

Liam was on fire (in a good way).

He wrapped his legs around Yuki’s waist and pulled him down into a kiss.

The sound of their hips slapping echoed in the room, along with Liam's little ah… ah… ahh’s as Yuki's cock grazed his prostate on every increasingly powerful thrust.

“Yuki!” Liam cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations that were completely new to him.

They looked into each other's eyes as they got closer to their ends, foreheads pressed together making them go cross-eyed. (They looked like lovesick idiots)

“Yuki- fuck, christ I'm… I'm going to- I’m coming!” Liam sobbed as his orgasm washed over him in waves while Yuki chased his own.

“Liam!” he gasped into Liam's mouth as he came inside him, hips grinding against the spot that made him see stars.

They panted and moaned into each others' mouths, coming down from the intense high as Yuki found Liam's hand to intertwine their fingers.

“I love you” he muttered as he kissed down Liam's neck and across his chest.

Tears sprang to Liam's eyes. “Yuki”

The older man looked up at him expectantly.

“I love you too” he whispered and Yuki smiled.

They kissed again, softer and more controlled than before.

They had time.

Pierre wasn't coming back anytime soon so they made use of the en-suite bathroom to take a nice long shower, soaping each other up and giggling like children as they felt each other up.

On their way back to their room, Yuki shot Pierre a quick text.

“We did not get cum on the bed, but you will need to buy more lube”

Pierre must have been waiting with Charles for a sign of life, because his reply was immediate.

“For fuck’s sake, Yuki. I told you to stop stealing my lube!”

“But congratulations or whatever”

[river-of-wine]

God it’s so unfair what they did to Molly. I know I’ve said it before but I can’t stop thinking about it. She was in love. She was young and in love and look what happened to her. She fell for a man infamous for his silver tongue, she is far from the first woman on his arm, and her only crime was believing in him. Believing in the promises he sold her and everybody else. She loved him. She loves him so much and he just didn’t care. What was she to him? A distraction? Something pretty to look at and touch when he pleased that became too much work to be worth his time? A status symbol? A pretty rich exotic bird in a cage to flaunt as he liked? A replacement? A stand in for a woman long since dead? Whatever she was, he didn’t love her. He never did. He knew he wouldn’t, he knew he didn’t, and yet there she was.

She was in love and alone in a country she didn’t know in a world that does not like her, in a gang that does not like her either, isolated from her peers by the influence of a man who does not and will not love her. Not the way she wants to be loved. A man who ignores and berates and abuses her, who belittles and complains about her every emotion, her simple asks to be spoken to, looked at, called by her first name. She is desperate for help and her attempt to reach out to somebody who may understand what she sees is wrong with Dutch is ignored. He starts looking at another woman. A younger woman. She’s already young. Not young enough for him. Not passive enough for him. Not enough for him. She says too much. She questions him too much. She asks too much for him when she tells him that she wants his respect and affection.

She knows. She sees him for who he is. No one else does. No one will listen to her. No one likes her. Some don’t mind her, of course, but they do not like her. Some pity her. They do not like her. They do not love her. He does not love her. She is a sobbing mess before him, telling him that he has ruined her life, and even then he refuses it all. She can’t leave. Where would she go? How would she live, with no skills to provide for herself and no idea where she even is beyond the imprisoning safety of camp? She is a sobbing mess every day, sleeping on the floor and talking to herself as she smokes, convinced that everyone is as bad as him, that everyone is laughing at her still. She runs away and no one cares. She flees into unfamiliar territory on foot and unarmed, and as quickly as she escapes her abuser she is captured and sweated about him, and even still, even after all he has done to her, even recalling his gang that do not like her, who she believes all hate her, she does not say a word about them. She does not betray him even after he has betrayed her. She does not put him in danger. She does not try to have him killed. She could. She does not put his gang in danger. His family that she has never been part of. People who have never been on her side. She does not betray them.

She is dragged right back the second one of them sees her, perhaps the first time she had been truly noticed in months, drunk and worn down and angry, and it’s too much now. She cannot take more of this. More of him. She can’t. She lies. She lies and he believes it. Almost all of them do. She lies. A lie they could have seen through if any had cared enough to know where she was. A bank robbery planned and failed in her presence, only in its aftermath deciding to leave. She lies and he believes her. He points his gun at her and she doesn’t care. Is that what she wanted? It does seem so, how she laughs at him. Finally winning, finally hurting him, knowing that even think it is only herself who is aware that she is making a fool of him. He’s not so big now. She lies and they shoot her and they burn her. She is shot in the back. In the stomach. There is a definite cruelty in that. It’s beyond just ridding the gang of a supposed traitor, a wound to the stomach. They shot her and they burned her. They fucking burned her. They burned this young woman destroyed by a man she loved. He destroyed her in life and they destroyed her body further. Her innocence is revealed and the very camp whose move was christened by her blood is meets the same fate, set alight, her killer’s body within. She never said a word, they learn. With every reason she had, she didn’t tell them anything. She was in love. I love Molly O'Shea