#god it's so hard not to put the title at the bottom i think it looks so cute down there..

[waketoearth]

more dark blood posters..

[strandedtoodeep]

Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have 150+ bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The ones without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 151k, 27ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 43k, 15 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 79k, 14 ch. || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 89k, 26 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

❗Maximum Effort by ArtemisFAYZ012 168k, 33 ch. || OMG the plot?? the spicy spices?? the intimacy between Logan and Wade (AND Logan who falls so HARD for Wade)

On going

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

❗Do I Wanna Know by @slut-arc 13k, 5ch. || a 5+1 fic! It's cute and fluffy but also with sparkles of angst, and the ice skating scene??? didn't leave my mind for days ugh

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

❗Under Your Skin, Over the Moon by RatFlavored 5k, 2 ch. || first Soulmate AU i read for Poolverine and i love it??? So much??? think this trope is underrated ngl, and it's well written!

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

❗don't i give you what you need by @wickedscribbles 5k, 2 ch. || i cannot not put the new work of Wicked here, it's so good and the heartbreak??? the angst??? my heart bleed so much for them

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

❗Echoes Through the Timeline by @piplover 64k, series with 4 works || i loved so many works in this series, specially the first and last one, break my heart and heal my soul

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 59k, 4 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

❗🐰 unhappy man syndrome by @gossippool 19k, 5 ch. || don't know if i'll recover from this fic, ever, but i'm so invested and it's pure whump all over (HUG FOR EVERYONE YALL)

❗Got My Mind Set On You by @buttsforabettertomorrow 23k, 4 ch. || Logan try so hard to be good and accepting in this one i love him so much lmao (and it confuses Wade so it's a double win)

🐰 Christmas in Canada by @thatoneartyishperson 7k, 3 ch. || listen, Halloween is still my favorite holidays but Poolverine AU Hallmark Christmas Movies ? URGH i'm here for it!!

❗back to the old house by @nico-di-angelol 71k, 8ch. || it's so interesting that i'm MAD at myself for not reading this earlier, yep it's THAT good! beware chap. 7 will break your heart

Synergy and Entropy by @artemis-pendragon 46k, 19 ch. || i was so sure that i'd put this fic here but no??? anyways, the hurt and angst in this fic are so astronomically good, so beware

❗🐰 Mr. Forgettable by @eliemo 40k, 7 ch. || okaaayy listen, this one make me cry every time i read it, idk how to explain why it feel so personal to me but it'll move you

🐰 make me into something sweet by @mothgardens 30k, 8 ch. || AU poolverine WITH MUSICAL CLASS? it's... it's beautiful! particularly love the dynamic between Logan and Wade in this one

❗knee deep in this thing called life by @secondbreakfastwizard 86k, 13 ch. || i'm so OBSESSED with this fic, autistic Logan is so dear to me (maybe bc i relate a lot) and these two are so stupidly in love

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

❗Pavlov’s Dog by @panties-on-boys 18k, 11 ch. || this is the kind of fiction that obsesses me so much, and i don't even like perfume; it's the most smutty slow burn ever hehe

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 40k, 16 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

You Should Feel My Nature Too by sterlingstars 10k, OS || so uh, i love stripper! Wade okay? it's not really that with this one but it's as good AND wholesome (and spicy too) so yeah

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! Logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 96k, 5 ch. || bartender! Logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

❗🐰 This Old House by @twentyghosts 30k, 16 ch. || AU with patient! Wade and handyman! Logan, they fall in love, it's full of angst, fluff, hurt, and with a very cute ending

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

❗🐰 Is It Casual Now? by @twilightkitkat 6k, OS || love this bc i have so many feelings about how the X-Men have treated Logan, i love seeing him stand up for himself **sob**

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt every time i read it

❗🐰 Relationship Advice by fir_forest 1k, OS || no but the idea of a fic like a relationship advice post on reddit??? i love this!! short, but sweet and very funny hehe

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

a loaded gun, can't contain this anymore (i'm all yours, i've got no control) by @obihoebikenobi 6k, OS || i have nothing to say other than read the tag hehe! but yeah love the concept, the smut is spicy (always like some focus on the claws)

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by RatFlavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

❗Heat of the Moment by @finelydressedspacemen 11k, 4 ch. || non traditional a/b/o my beloved!!! and it's always a little bit satisfying to see Scott mentioned (hehehe the drama)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 17k, 10 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

🐰 Little Reflection by @wickedscribbles 11k, 5ch. || poolverine + cute cat + Logan suffering from anxiety and i'm sold! because ofc Logan is a true and pure cat (and dog) dad

❗i bet we’d have really good come right on me, i mean camaraderie by @notesappwitch 31k, 2 ch. || bodyswap trope, love the character's voice bc it's so on point, very funny, a lot of emotions and the spicy scenes are perfect

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor? by @slut-for-a-good-latte 5k, OS || one of my favorite thing with poolverine is psychic/quantum thingy bond because of the Time Ripper and this one DELIVERS!!

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

❗it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by @obihoebikenobi 21k, 3 ch. || Wade pinning x Logan perfectly happy in his relationship with his boyfriend who doesn't know he's his boyfriend it's perfect

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

who are you, really? by @edgebug 45k, 4 ch. || the sequel of where soul meets body and it's also an absolutely masterpiece! and still trying to process my feelings for this fic

[sungstars]

sex education | pjs x afab!reader

synopsis: jisung had a reputation of being good at sex, until you got the chance to experience it. lackluster is the nicest way you could describe it, but worry not, you're a damn good teacher and jisung is eager to learn.

part one! part two! part three!

author's note: this is very much dedicated to my lovely fren @spookyji <3 happy holidays & there will be very much more to come! i do plan on making this a two-three part series! i will just see what happens in regards to writing / plot points. warnings under the cuts! likes & reblogs are appreciated!

wc: 3.6k (not proofread)

content warning: mentions of sex (18+, mdni!), allusions to hooking up, making out, y/n gets around town, but we love it, dry humping, "just the tip" troupe, y/n is kinda mean, degrading(?), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), nipple sucking (m&f rec.), lmk if i miss anything!

"god, no offense, but this was the worst sex i've ever had."

jisung's face was beet red, mouth agape as he laid against your pillows, trying to catch his breath from what he thought was pretty fucking awesome sex.

"what?" was all he could muster in between pants, wiping the sweat from his neck.

"i mean, are you sure i slept with the right jisung? the one who's been talked up a big game about being a sex god? like. . . not han jisung?" you titled your head, scratching at your braids with a confused look, "because you're not a sex god, you're not even a sex entity of any sort, you weren't a virgin right?"

this was so fucking embarassing, and also the first time jisung heard such a complaint. wow, normally girls tell him how good he was and how hard they came. . . even you did.

were you lying? were the other girls also . . lying?

"im confused, i thought that was pretty good." jisung finally admits, sitting up to look at you with his own confussed look, "i mean you were moaning and even talked about how you were about to cum. were you faking?"

"you couldn't tell?" you asked in a baffled tone like it should've been obvious, "and i'm sure it was great for you, i did all the fucking work! you just kissed me a little and maybe held my hips as i rode you only for you to last. . 10 minutes?"

"im sorry, maybe im just off my game? i've never had girls tell me, um, how bad i was at sex." he mumbled under his breath, looking at the floor for his clothes, "you're the first."

you reached down to grab your panties, standing up to pull them over your hips before throwing a shirt on, "if it goes the way this went. . . i think they wanted to protect your feelings because you're hot and relatively nice, ji."

jisung pondered for a moment as he put his own bottoms back on, thinking of the last few girls who he slept with.

yeah they would make out, he would finger her a little, she would suck him off, and then she would fuck herself on his dick until he came. most of the time, they finished before he did, and they would part ways until the next time.

more often than not though, there wasn’t a next time. jisung didn’t think too much about it though because he did go to a relatively large university, so he shrugged it off when another girl caught his attention.

now he wasn’t too sure that it was simply because of the size of university, but because they thought he was bad at sex.

“fuckkkk,” jisung dragged his hands down his face at the realization, “fuck.”

you tried not to react to jisung’s random outburst of cursing, but you couldn’t help the little side eye you gave him.

“what?”

jisung awkwardly reached down for his shirt, tripping over himself, but catching it before he could embarrass himself further, “it’s just. . really nobody’s said this to me before. do you think we could do this again? i can make up for it?”

“um. . .” you bit your lip, pondering how to gently let him down.

you did a once over his body, making him blush and throw his shirt on. jisung was attractive, there were no questions about it, but fuck, the sex was so lackluster.

maybe you could see what anton was doing later. he was your favorite person to sleep with. mainly because he would eat it and be on his merry way, insisting there was never a need to return the favor. ever.

you’re getting distracted, this is about jisung. it was a wonder that he had a reputation of being good at sex. that’s why when the opportunity presented itself, you jumped on it like a mouse finding a delicious piece of cheese.

hm. . you could always. . teach jisung how to improve his abilities. if he did, then maybe you would add him to the roster of pretty boys you rotate.

“you know what, sure.” you finally said, “but, im in charge. im going to teach you how to make a girl feel good. if i see some improvement, then ill keep my mouth shut about how bad this was. after i tell my friends, of course.”

a bright flush took over jisung’s face, him trying to process your agreement, and also you telling your friends about your . . . less than exquisite experience.

jisung grabbed his belongings off of your nightstand, showing them in his pockets before glancing at you, “um. . do you know when we can?”

“no,” you shrugged, walking over to the door so you could see him out of your building, "but i'll text you when i'm free."

the red haired boy nodded for the nth time it seemed like, walking out the door when you opened it, offering an awkward wave before sauntering down your hall towards the elevator.

you stood there, watching his tall frame get smaller and smaller with distance. you truly had your work cut out for you, but you were sure you could manage.

watching jisung, you didn't notice that your neighbor, kazhua opened the door, eyes following where you were watching jisung leave.

"oh," she giggled knowingly, "how was it? i hear he's pretty. . y'know, good at it."

you had to stifle a laugh, offering a playful smile at the girl, "you have no idea."

jisung was worried. he hasn't heard from you in almost two weeks, and he was worried you changed your mind about seeing him to improve his. . skills for a lack of a better words.

you're a busy person, he can understand that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from crossing his mind when he laid down at night.

he barely talked about his experience with you to his friends, which they thought was strange, given that he always wants to share, but waved it off.

his fingers were strumming against his thigh as he stared at his laptop, not sure what he planned on doing, but he needed to get his mind off of you.

maybe your ears were burning, because your contact name came across his screen.

yn :(: my dorm is empty

yn: come over.

jisung didn't want to come across as desperate, so instead he just stared at the message, waiting a few minutes before reaching his hands to reply. however, another message came through.

chenle: want to play basketball

chenle: all of us r meeting at the gym in 15

jisung: cant, have plans ;)

chenle: whos the new victim of the week

jisung: nope, pretty girl from two weeks ago

chenle: ohh. maybe itll go well this time

jisung felt his heart drop to his ass, heartbeat in his ears as his mind began racing. did you really tell your friends who might've told their friends and now it got all the way back to his own group?

jisung: what?

chenle: bc you didnt talk about it lol. we assumed it went bad

jisung: lol obvi not, tell you abt it next time

okay, enough time has passed so he could finally reply to you.

jisung: be there in 30!

the entire walk to your dorm room, jisung was nervous. fuck, he's been nervous since your last interaction.

he feels like he's about to go lose his virginity all over again, truly.

his heartbeat was loud in his ears, seeming to increase every step closer to your room.

the time he took in the shower, the outfit he picked out, all of it in hopes that you would see his effort.

he wasn't even sure why he wanted to impress you so damn much. yes he was, you could embarrass the living fuck out of him.

plus, from the last time you hung out, you didn't seem half bad. that is, until you told him about himself.

anyway, he was finally face to face with your door. he gently knocked, bouncing on his feet slightly to calm his nerves.

you opened the door, offering him a gentle smile.

your hair was different than last time. instead of having it in braids, it was a bright fiery red, like his own, and it cascaded down your back in pretty beach waves.

"copping my style?" jisung teased, doing a once over as you laughed a little.

it was good that he didn't seem so nervous or tense, or if he was, which you were worried about.

you did feel a little bad about how his once relaxed demeanor changed into a nervous wreck when you told him about the sex being bad.

“some would say inspired,” you replied, moving to the side so he could enter your room.

jisung took his shoes off, placing them neatly next to your nightstand before putting his phone and wallet on top, “it suits you.”

you returned to your spot on the bed, gesturing for jisung to sit next to you, which he obliged without second thought,

“so. . .” he trailed off, looking down at his hands, “how have you been?”

"fine, you?"

"i've been okay."

the tension between you both felt awkward now, which you didn't want. jisung was sweet, but you didn't really know him like you knew anton or jay.

which made you feel a bit nervous too, which was weird. you never felt a little nervous when hooking up with somebody, friend or stranger.

"maybe we should talk a little before we jump into lesson one," you suggested, turning your head towards him, "get a little more comfortable."

jisung nodded, facing you and biting his lip slightly, "yeah. . yeah. we can do that."

"what's your major?" you asked, relatively generic, but hey, at least you were starting somewhere.

"radiology, what about you?"

"sonography, sort of similar to radiology, but y'know not really."

jisung's fingers danced along his thigh, "still interesting, what made you decide to do that?"

"i want to work with people, but i don't want to be a midwife and watch somebody give birth. nursing is cool, but just not fitting for me. radiology is interesting, but i don't really care for it. i guess sonography is just what spoke most to me out of all the programs. i don't know." you explained, "what about you?"

"well, i was a dance major, and i'm pretty good at it, but i know in my heart that i wouldn't pursue it professionally. i think anatomy is cool, and why not? i'm also majoring in astrophysics, but that's neither here nor there."

"that's. . . really interesting. who knew under all this sexiness, was a little nerdy boy," you teased, pinching jisung's cheek which caused him to swat at you playfully, "so smart and handsome, and a dancer."

jisung's ears were as red as his hair, grabbing your wrist and holding it above your head.

he didn't realize howhow close the two of you were now. your thighs touching and your faces merely inches apart now.

when he did, he immediately blushed and dropped his hand, moving away from you once more.

"jisung," you said softly, "why are you acting so shy? what happened to the confident boy from last time?"

"um. . ." he scratched his neck, trying to figure out how to word his train of thoughts, "well . . after what we talked about last time, it kinda hurt my feelings. to be honest, and it made me sort of doubt myself. a lot, actually."

damn, you thought to yourself. you didn't even second guess yourself when you told him how bad the sex was, not taking a moment to possibly word it better. you did feel bad, knowing you hurt his feelings and made him self conscious.

"i'm sorry, ji." you mumbled, looking at him with a sincere look, "i didn't even think about how i said things, or how it could've. . hurt your feelings."

jisung offered you a little smile, "it's okay, y/n. i probably needed to hear it, so it's okay."

"let me make it up to you?" you asked, leaning into his space and looking up at him.

he couldn't deny how pretty you looked staring up at him. your glossy bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you waited for his answer, hair falling over your shoulders.

"yeah, okay." he nodded, leaning into you now, lips hovering over yours, "make it up to me, y/n."

you attached your lips to his, closing the gap between the both of you. throwing your leg over his hip to settle into his lap. his hands found their place on your hips, yours finding their way into his hair.

if there was one thing that jisung was good at, it was kissing. his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, his teeth grazing your lip, and the lingering taste of cherry on his lips.

his fingers dug their way into your hips, causing you to slightly buck against him. a soft moaning leaving his lips, causing you to repeat the motion.

you detached yourself from jisung, looking at his flushed face and swollen lips, "just trust me, mm? 'm gonna show you somethin.."

jisung hummed, relaxing against your pillows as you kissed down his neck, your teeth grazing into his skin, sucking dark hickeys into his pale skin. small whimpers left jisung's pretty lips as you grind your hips down, feeling his erection slowly grow underneath you.

your hands dipped under his shirt, feeling his defined stomach muscles, dancing up to his nipples and pinching them slightly. a loud moan left jisung's lips, his hips pushing up into you.

his erection pressing against your clit through your thin shorts, making you gasp against his skin.

you adjusted yourself on his lap, making sure that the tip of his cock would keep bumping your cunt the way it did before. hands pulling his shirt up to his collarbones.

leaning down, you wrapped your plump lips around one of his nipples, causing jisung to dig his fingers into your skin.

"fuck," he whined, back slightly arching up into you, "that feels so nice."

you smiled, sucking harshly to elicit more noises from the boy below you.

pulling away from him, you looked at his fucked out expression, "damn jisung, a little nipple sucking is all it takes to get you to look like that?"

a bright blush took over jisung's features, eyes darting away from you, "i thought you were supposed to be making me feel better, not teasing me."

"you're right, i apologize." you cooed, placing your hands on his toned stomach before rolling your hips against his, "so mean to such a sweet boy, 'm so sorry."

"it's okay," he whimpered, his cock straining against his sweats, "just. . keep doing this please."

"i can make it feel even better," you moaned out, pausing your movements which caused jisung to slightly frown at the loss, "lift your hips up for me."

jisung obliged, your fingers pulling his sweats down to free his cock, the length slapping against his stomach with a wet pop.

you licked your lips at the sight, his fat tip an angry red, wanting nothing more to take into your mouth.

maybe next time, for now, you had other plans with jisung. you pulled your own shorts down, kicking them off of your feet and onto the floor.

adjusting yourself back onto his lap, the feeling of his cock against your bare cunt made you feel a little feral.

you began to rub your cunt up and down the length of his dick, your slick wettening it to make it a bit more smoother. every time the tip nudged your clit, your fingers dug into jisung's pale skin.

"oh fuck," jisung groaned at the contact, fucking his hips up to increase the friction against your cunt, "that feels so fucking good."

you moved one of your hands to his shoulder to stable yourself, whimpering when the tip slowly pushed into you.

jisung's eyes were screwed tightly, mouth agape when his tip entered you, but quickly slipped out.

"fuck," he sighed, that word seeming to be the only one he can formulate right now, "fuck, can i please put the tip in?"

nodding quickly, you reached your hand down in between your bodies, grabbing his cock and slowly sliding the tip into you, your hole clamping around him.

you bounced lightly on his cock, hand squeezing the base of his dick as his tip moved in and out of your cunt.

"y/n" jisung whimpered, "y/n, i'm gonna come."

when you registered jisung's words, you quickly slipped his cock out of you, giggling at his disappointed look, "awh."

trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down, jisung looked like he might've cried, "why did you do that?"

"oh sung," you cooed at him again, wiping away the tear that managed to escape, "i think i made it up to you plenty, i think it's time you do some work for a change, you are here to learn after all."

his head fell against the pillows, agitated at your comment, but still turned on nonetheless. fuck, you being so condescending in bed is so fucking hot.

"okay." he managed to say, sitting up and flipping you so that your back was on the mattress, "what should i do then?"

his strength took you by surprise, flipping you over like a fucking piece of paper.

"first," you began, spreading your legs so he could sit between them comfortably, "pull my shirt up."

jisung listened, pushing your t-shirt up to your collarbones like you did to him, focusing on your perky tits, "okay, now what?"

was he that clueless? you couldn't help but think, "play with them. suck on them, pinch them, come on, you've never played with a girl's tits before?"

deciding to ignore that jab, jisung leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, letting his tongue flick at it while he brought his hand to the other, rolling it around between his fingers.

you let out little sighs which encouraged him to keep going, lightly biting down on your nipple before switching to the other.

"okay, that feels so good, ji baby." you admitted, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair, "just do what feels right."

jisung took a few more moments to play with your tits, sucking and pinching them to get you to make more noises. when he detached, you hissed at the cold air hitting your wet nipple.

his lips trailed down your sternum, to your stomach, fingers wrapping around your thighs as he slowly trailed lower down to your pelvis.

he adjusted himself so that he was face to face with your cunt, his dick pressed between his stomach and the mattress, a whimper escaping his mouth again.

"have you ever. . ?"

jisung shook his head no, but looked at you with eager, almost desperate eyes, "can i try?"

"you are here to learn," you chided, "do what feels right. i'll guide you through it."

leaning forward, he used two fingers to spread your folds, enamored with your glistening cunt, blowing air on it to see how you would react.

you hissed at the contact, thighs clamping around his head, but jisung quickly used his hands to pry them back open.

he finally pressed his mouth against you, licking up and down your cunt, fingers wrapping around your thighs once more.

"slowly ji," you said, "be gentle. it's not a melting lollipop."

jisung slowed his movements, swirling his tongue around your clit before licking a strip up your cunt again, looking up at you.

your hand gripped his hair tightly, moaning out, "that's good, baby."

he smiled against your cunt, slowly grinding his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the frustration building up in him.

he teasingly dipped his tongue into your hole, moaning against you when you pulled his hair tightly. pulling away, jisung wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it as he moved his hand to push one finger into you.

jisung wanted you to tell him how good he was doing, but if how you were withering underneath him and your cunt fluttering around his finger was anything to go by, he was doing a damn good job.

when he was confident you could take another, he slipped another finger into you.

the feeling of his teeth grazing your clit as he fingered you, you wouldn't guess he's never done this before. his actions causing you to slowly reach your peak.

"fuck ji," you sighed, "you're so good at this. 'm about to fucking cum."

pulling away from your cunt for a brief second, he looked up at you with a dark look in his eyes, "cum all over my face, please. show me how good i'm doing, please."

with a desperate plea like that, you pushed his face back into his cunt, jisung taking your clit into his mouth once more.

his fingers hitting that spongey spot inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head, "fuck. 'm cumming."

your cunt spasming all over jisung's fingers as your orgasm overtook you, whining and crying from the pleasure.

jisung didn't stop his abuse on your cunt, lapping your juices up until you physically pushed him away, "too much, fuck."

you fell back against your pillows, jisung catching his breath before you sat up to look at him.

trailing over his body, you looked at his dick as spurts of cum ran down it, "mm seems like i'm not the only one who enjoyed that."

ignoring that, jisung leaned into you, face glistening with your slick as he kissed your neck, "so when's lesson #2?"

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[moonlight-records]

Hole in one | LH44 & LN4

pairing: LH44 x Reader x LN4

summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on a rarely non-busy day but your mind has other ideas seeing how hot your boyfriends are. luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today--

warning: age gap between lewis & partners, semi-threesome, dom/sub dynamics, mention of eating out, mention of sex, mention of overstimulation, semi-free use(?), cockwarming, blowjob, semi-public exhibitionism (aka car sex), mmf threesome sorta???, edging, facial, mention of medication.

fc: none!

a/n: I KNOW THE TITLE IS CHEESY. DOES IT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AND IDC. It's late and i used my brain power for the smut--don't look at me

wc: 4.1K

God, you were certain you were going to go straight to hell. Poor boys just wanted a nice bonding day and you were imagining their hands helping you get out of this golfing outfit.

The thought crossed your mind glancing between the two Brits who were currently standing by the golf tee happily talking while you looked between the two trying to figure out which one you wanted to take first.

First, Lando was in those black golf shorts and that stupid black wife beater. You had so much to look at that you didn’t where you wanted to focus on first. Between the vein that pops out of his neck when he swings to his hands that gripped the gold club the way you wish he would grip your hair to his muscles just on full display along with a gorgeous tan that would look so much better with marks from you. Your eyes kept linger up to that curly mullet he had just gotten and you wet your lips because damn it. That mullet was just coaxing you to run your fingers through and grab and yank. Maybe you could get a hold of that chain and—

There was some laughter as a darker male nudged Lando with his shoulder. Lewis was the polar opposite of Lando.

While Lando looked like he had just rolled out of bed ten minutes before his ride came, Lewis was dressed like he was always on the golf course. A cream (you think it’s cream anyway) woven short sleeve polo and green golfing pants. The pants fit Lewis in a way that you could clearly see a little bit more than typically bargained before. You learned that the hard way by hole 3 when you realized Lewis did not have his hands in his pocket and now at hole 11, you were disrespectfully staring at any chance you got. When you couldn’t, you took to staring at all the different tattoos that you could see on his arms and watching his muscles. What you wouldn’t give for those damn tatted biceps putting your head in a headlock.

God, what do people call this duo?

Pairs??

You squint when the rare sunlight is suddenly in your eyes before a figure steps to the side slightly to give you shade. The gentle swipe of a thumb across your bottom lip snaps you back into reality.

“Something distracting you, love?”

Your face flushes almost immediately when Lando speaks to you. You avert your eyes while clearing your throat before letting out a soft noise of surprise when Lando lets his hand slip just underneath your jaw and forces your head up just an inch higher. You look back at him and blink because wow. The guys were right. You really did just need a few touches from either of them to turn into a mess.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmurs while leaning down, “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yeah..”

“You haven’t answered me. You know I don’t like repeating myself but you are just too cute like this so I’ll ask one more time. Is there something distracting you, love?”

“Oh!” You start, “Oh no—not really—” you ramble out and sit up a bit straighter when Lando sits next to you in the golf cart, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as his hand moves back to his chin, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, “just thinking about…things,” you murmur while nodding, more so trying to convince yourself then Lando, “that’s all.”

“What were you thinking about?” He smirks.

You squirm slightly under his gaze while glancing at Lando before letting your gaze drift around. Nobody else was around, which wasn’t a surprise considering you and your boyfriends decided to go golfing only an hour after the rain stopped even though the clouds still hung around, the sun was coming out. At least Lewis was kind enough to tip the workers very well as a thank you. Speaking of, your gaze lands on Lewis who is still by the golf tee, texting someone intensely which means Lewis is distracted.

Glancing back, you’re met with sea green eyes that meet your gaze. There’s a dark fire burning in them that you know screams lustful trouble. You knew better than to give into this temptation. You were in public for christ sake and the last thing you wanted was to get in trouble but you’ve been dying to get your hands on his mullet and it’s right here.

Trouble be damned, you slide closer to Lando, letting a hand make its way around his neck and you start to run your fingers carefully through his curly mullet. You gently scratch his neck as Lando rests his head on your shoulder. You gasp silently when warm lips brush against your neck teasingly. You bite your bottom lip harshly feeling Lando nip at your neck to stay quiet as you press your thighs together. You yank his hair slightly feeling his hand slide between your thighs.

“Lando,” You murmur as a warning trying to close your legs.

“Shhh,” Lando murmurs in your ear. You shiver hearing that stupid smirk in his words as a finger traces the waistband of your skirt on your skin shifting so one of his legs caught yours and forced your legs open for him. You whine softly as his hand starts to slip under the waistband.

You gasp when Lando’s head is yanked back and your eyes flick up to Lewis, standing behind Lando while holding his head back to look up at the older Brit. Lewis is looking down at Lando before his gaze finally makes it over to you and he raises a brow, “what do we have, here?” Lewis asks.

You stare at the older male then at Lando because you have two options. You can either go down with the ship or save yourself. Typically, you’d probably go down with Lando but you were still recovering from two nights ago when you and Lando decided to send Lewis some rather risky photos while he was at the factory. The memory of being being sat in Lewis lap having orgasm after orgasm from Lando, who was on his knee for that entire time eating you out and that was about a good…two hours before Lewis had showed you some mercy by letting you lay on the couch while Lewis had Lando bent over the coffee table an apologizing mess.

“I tried to warn him.” You admit to Lewis.

“Y/N!” Lando manages before he groans slightly when Lewis tugs his hair a bit more while Lewis leans over him, "Sorry,” Lando breaths out.

Lewis shakes his head while looking down at him, “you just love to cause trouble don’t you, you fucking brat,” Lewis smirks at Lando’s feigned innocent smile. He looks at you and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up. “Meanwhile, Y/N over here is being such a little angel for me.”

“She is not,” Lando breathes out, “She was enjoying it more than what she’s leading on.”

Lewis hums softly and thinks it over, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. I did interrupt before anything fun could happen, but.” Lewis leans down, “it seems that out of the two of you, you typically are the one that initiates trouble and y/n has such a pure heart to not let you get punished on your own. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You bit your bottom lip gently while nodding in agreement, “That’s right.”

“See? She’s so kind,” Lewis praises as he leans over to give you a peck, “unlike a certain brat.”

“Well, someone has to keep things lively,” Lando muses, “Besides I never hear either of you complain.”

“You’re right, we don’t complain,” Lewis starts, “we love it very much but sometimes, we just want an easy and I just want you to behave for me. Like today, it was supposed to be an easy day with golfing and cuddling but now I have to punish you for misbehaving.” Lewis shakes his head softly, “what am I going to do with you?” Lewis hums looking between the two of you and grins, “I know exactly what to do.”

It was a miracle that the golf cart made it back to its area in one piece. Even though it only went up to 20 miles per hour Lewis made it feel like it was going much faster with how determined he was to get the three of you off the course after telling Lewis your idea. Lando was growing more excitedly anxious while you sat between the two of them, curious to see what is suppose to happen.Lewis had given you the keys to the Mercedes, telling you and Lando to head over early as he wrapped up and you happily obliged with Lando giving Lewis a mock salute and following.

“Lando,” you start when you two are close to the car when Lando is pressing against your back, kissing his neck. Lando murmurs something into your skin as you tilt your head to give Lando better access as you unlock the car. You get the back door open before you yelp when Lando gives a sharp slap to your ass, whipping around, “Lando!”

“What?” He feigns innocence as he pulls you close by your hips. He lets his hands travel down to your ass to gently rub soothing circles where he slapped before grabbing your ass, “Am I supposed to just stare? Can’t touch it now?”

You giggle softly while wrapping your arms around his neck. You let Lando back you up to the car as you hum softly, “I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.”

Lando grins before leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. You let a hand find its way back into the mullet as Lando tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You moan softly which gives Lando a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He stumbles you backwards, breaking the kiss to help you into the back seat before climbing in after you. He shuts the door but something stops it and Lando whips his head around to see Lewis holding the door handle. “Oh,” he says breathlessly and laughs, “Lew. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Lewis chuckles sheepishly, “didn’t have the heart to interrupt the show.”

You giggle softly while scooting over so Lewis could climb in. Once he was in, you comfortably sat back in your corner watching Lewis pull Lando into a searing kiss by the back of his neck. You fanned yourself watching because it should not be as hot as it was watching Lando just crumble under Lewis’ touch slowly but surely. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, you didn’t even want to join in. You were much happier just sitting in your corner watching Lando turn into a mess as the curly hair driver was now straddling Lewis, kissing and nipping at his neck for more attention.

You lock eyes with Lewis and he just nods his head slightly. You immediately crawl over and Lando lets out a huff when Lewis shifts him to straddle one thigh while you straddle the other. You’re cupping Lewis’ face and kissing him stupid. You pull back before slinking off of Lewis thigh.

You and Lewis work together to get into position. Lewis manages to turn Lando before having him sit in Lewis' lap. While Lewis pulls Lando’s into another kiss, you move yourself to the floor. It’s a bit tighter than you anticipated but you made it work. You glance up, seeing Lando’s with his head back on Lewis shoulder gasping and whining. Lewis was murmuring in his ear while one hand was up Lando’s shirt playing with his nipples while the other was loosely messing with Lando’s belt. He glances down when you gently push Lewis’ hand away from Lando’s belt before undoing it.

You stick your tongue out as you fiddle with the belt while Lando squirms above. You huff before smacking his inner thigh gently causing him to yelp out of shock, “stop moving!” You tell him as you get the belt undone before undoing Lando’s shorts.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You ask.

“Could you do me a big favor?” Lewis asks, “could you go into the glove compartment and grab me the travel lube? Please?”

“Of course!” You take a hot minute to turn so your back is to your boyfriends and lean over the counsel and just get the glove compartment open. You shift to lean a bit more as you dig through, listening to the sound of kisses and soft gasps and whines. “Oh, was someone eager?” You hear Lewis behind you, “Was a good enough boy to at least your butt plug.” You put your lips together tightly as if you were eating a lemon to keep from laughing out loud as Lando just murmurs something before he groans out in pleasure before he tries to quiet himself.

“Found it!” You announce happily as you lean back offering the travel lube to Lewis. The second that it’s out of your hand you’re leaning forward to close the glove compartment while behind you Lewis and Lando shuffled around before Lando . When you turn around, Lando is now sitting in Lewis’ lap. He was panting slightly his back against Lewis chest, shorts and boxers now pulled down, face flushed.

“Ah, there we go,” Lewis purrs while hooking his chin on Lando’s shoulder. You watch Lewis’s hands moving down to stroke Lando’s cock, making you kneel right there as he does so, “You’re very pretty as a brat,” Lewis whispers but besides Lando’s gasps and whines, you can hear Lewis, “but you’re much prettier when you’re like this.” Lando manages out a breathless “Yes sir,” while gripping Lewis’ arm like a lifeline.

Lewis drags his teeth against Lando’s neck, finally biting a mark on his pretty skin (which you’re jealous of since you’ve been wanting to do that all day) but you’re getting more flustered while looking semi-embarrassed, turning as red as Ferrari’s suit and ducking your head. But Lewis is quick to snap his fingers and motions for you to rest his head against Lando's bare thigh while he works. You hesitate but do what is asked with Lewis praising you, "just keep looking here baby. Don't look away from how pretty Lando's being for you,” and Lewis goes back to working Lando up. "See? Look at how well behaved Y/N is? You see what happens when you behave? You get rewarded. We should probably do something to reward her...right?"

You watch Lando swallow a strangle cry probably because the three of you were in a mainly empty parking lot and currently doing—this. You see Lewis use his free hand to slip up Lando’s shirt to grab his chin, forcing the younger Brit to look at him, “Well? Do you think Y/N deserves a reward?” “I—mm yeah,” Lando manages out, “but I thought—”

“Oh trust me. I didn’t forget about you.” Lewis grins and kisses him, “you are going to sit here on my cock so pretty for me while Y/N enjoys her reward and let us just use you how we see fit, is that okay?” Grabbing his jaw a bit harsher, “and the only time you can cum is when I decide. Understood?”

Lando whines but nods. “I—yes sir,” Lando says softly while digging his nails a bit more into Lewis' skin, “I understand.” Lewis hisses feeling Lando digging into his arm. In return, Lewis leans down to nip at Lando’s neck, leaving another mark while rolling his hips up. Lando arches his back and moans loudly, squirming slightly. “Oh fuck—”

Lando completely ignores the reaction he pulls from the younger driver while using his free hand to brush your cheek. He shifts a little further forward and ushers you up. "Come on, you’ve earned a reward for being so good and not following this brat’s lead for trouble. Go on," He urges, nodding his head before you get the picture. You look up at Lewis and Lando before adjusting your kneeling position the best you can.Then you duck your head and wrap your lips around Lando’s cock, replacing Lewis’ hand. Immediately, you hollow your cheeks out when you start sucking the other off.

“Such good sweethearts, both of you,” Lewis says above directed at both of you. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and neck as your lips stretch over the girth of Lando’s cock. It earns a strangled cry from Lando as Lewis speaks. "Fuck you two are just too pretty," he moans, rolling his hips up into Lando, earning another gasp and moan as Lando bucks his hips forward slightly. It causes you to choke on Lando briefly and when you pull back, there's a string of spit connecting your lips to Lando still. “Oh are you okay sweetheart?” Lewis purrs softly, “Lando isn’t being rude, right?”

“No, no he’s not being rude. Just, surprised was all,” you admit.

“Well, why don’t you take a bit of a break?”

You blink and nod slightly as you lean back, panting softly. You press your thighs together when you’re reminded just how strong these drivers are as you watch Lewis grab Lando’s hips hard enough to lease bruises before Lewis is practically using Lando as a toy. You watch Lewis manage to pick Lando up before slamming him down. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he grips onto Lewis, doing exactly what he was told. Sitting there, looking pretty, and letting you two use him however you two saw fit.

Really this shouldn't be turning you on as much as it is, but it is. Lewis is really hot when he gets all commanding like this, switching off from fucking Lando senseless to you sucking Lando off while Lando is being pampered and gets the praises he deserves and looks so sexy as he’s begging Lewis to show him any mercy and - you stick your tongue on the underside the younger drivers's cock, swallowing him down even more, some of your hair falling in your face when Lewis gently guides your head back dow. You know that your jaw is probably going to be sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to get in this car for a bit without getting flustered but you do not care right now when your boyfriends are being this hot right now.

"Look at her, Lan," Lewis breathes when he sees you giving into the job, "look at how much she's loving this,” you glance up seeing Lewis pampering Lando in kisses. Lando was breathing heavily, face and chest flushed. Hair stuck to his forehead from sweat while his cheeks were slick with both sweat and tears. His eyes are slightly red and glassy but he seems so gone in subspace. Lando almost sobs when you deep throat him, burying his face in Lewis neck as his hands fly to your hair to find purchase, holding onto your hair as you start bobbing your head again, randomly deep throating him to keep things interesting.

Pulling off, you pant while looking up, biting your bottom lip as you smile when Lewis strokes your cheek, “Oh, what a good little slut for you’re being - and only for us.” Lewis starts, “You think it’s time for Lando to have mercy?” You look your other boyfriend over and nod. “Okay. Well, how do you want him? Down your throat or all over your face? Tell me what you want."

Your brain short circuits because you swore that Lewis was going to make this decision, not you. This feels like a big decision and you aren’t really sure what to pick as you squirm in your spot, “I—um,” you start before Lewis is grabbing your hair and guiding you to look up at him a bit harshly, "Y/N," Lewis warns, "you have to use your words. Or we will stop and I will fuck Lando silly in the backseat and neither of you will get off. You understand me, don’t you? Tell me what you want."

You let your mouth fall open before closing your mouth and swallowing the lump in your throat. As much as you would love to see your boyfriends have sex, the idea of not getting off was the only thing that made the idea slightly unappealing. This was your reward so you found it a bit rude that you were now in the position where you couldn’t properly enjoy it. “I k—I understand sir,” you correct yourself swiftly, “I—” might as well go big since you’re already here giving a blowjob in a car, “I want Lando to come on my face, please.”

“Such a pretty slut,” Lewis whispers to you while gently pulling you up closer to him. You shift before he pulls you in into a kiss so searing that neither of you remember how long it lasts but he knows when it's done, he has both you and him gasping for air. “Whatever our princess wants is what she gets. He murmurs, “Now why don’t you sit back.” You nod quickly as you sit back. Lewis makes Lando look and he groans seeing the state you were in and you could only imagine how you looked. Lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. Lando tries to look away but Lewis catches his chin and forces him to look while his other hand replaces your lips and starts to stroke Land again. "Come on baby," he goads, moving them closer, angling them so his cock is pointed right at your face. "Give her what she wants. Paint his pretty whore face," he growls, the slick making an obscene noise. "Y/N, open your fucking mouth and stick our your tongue," he commands, voice rough. Your eyes widen for a second but you also follow that command, hands resting on Lando's knees and opening his mouth, waiting patiently. "See love?" Lewis whispers, pressing his lips to Lando's temple. "See how good she's being? Now be good for us and come over Y/N's face, yeah? Paint it for us."

Lando is so overstimulated between Y/N and Lewis that he can’t even remember his own name right now. He whines loudly when Lewis shifts slightly to kiss Y/N, feeling Lewis shift inside him and god if he didn’t get to finish soon, he was going to become the worst possible person for Lewis to handle. He groans loudly, melting into Lewis chest while jerking his hips into Lewis hand, eyes closed and head tipped back. He forces his head up to look at you and he lets out a strangled noise because oh fuck. You should not look this gorgeous right now with your tongue out and eyes on him. "Uh huh," Lando manages because it’s all he can muster.

There’s no warning. No heads up. Not even a single noise. Lando’s orgasm hits him hard and fast and unsuspectingly that Lando just lets his mouth fall open silently as he arches his back, legs shaking, and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Lewis is murmuring praises while running his free hand through Lando’s hair while you get a second to close your eyes because the last thing you want is seamen in the eye. You open your eyes when Lewis gently coaxes you to. Both Lando and Lewis moan softly seeing the absolute mess Lando made of your face. You blush slightly before you close your mouth and swallow whatever made it onto your tongue before sticking your tongue out again.

“Such a good princess for us,” Lewis praises, “did you enjoy your reward?”

“I did.”

“Did someone learn why they need to behave?” Lewis asks.

Lando hums while slumped against Lewis' chest, “yeah,” he murmurs, “I did. Not going to change anything.”

“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” you giggle and Lewis laughs.

“Okay baby,” Lewis rubs Lando’s back, “think you’d be good sitting for a bit while Y/N and I finish up?”

Lando groans softly and whines, “noooo,” he starts. “Just–five minutes?” Lando asks.

You sit next to Lewis and giggles softly while kissing Lando’s other temple, “sure baby. I can wait five minutes. I’m not in a rush. Babe?”

“I can manage waiting five minutes,” Lewis smiles as you and Lewis happily smother Lando into kisses. That is until Lando becomes a bit more coherent and stupidly says, 

“You know this is the first time I lasted more than 10 minutes off my meds…oh my god. It’s like–a hole in one–”

“BOOOOOO.”

“Lando, that was horrible–”

“GOD FORBID I SPEAK THE TRUTH–”

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | let’s get kinky (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; graphic sexual content, kink content, daddy kink (NOT ddlg), blood kink, knife kink

♡notes; i’m alive (ish) !!! i think i forgot how to write but have this

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> he’s a vanilla guy, honestly

> he’s a virgin when you meet and still believes a lot of what his mother taught him

> however, he is eager to please

> so eager to please that with some gentle coaxing, you could get him to try about anything once

> he’s a natural service top- but he’d bottom no questions asked

> in terms of dom and sub dynamics, he fits pretty snugly in the sub category

> but as I said, he’d try anything once, including completely doming you

> and even if he is submissive, the man is tall, wide, and pure muscle

> it’s not hard for him to get rough- sometimes he is without even realizing it

> but the aftercare is always top-notch, he takes care of you the whole rest of the day/night even if it’s not necessary

> funnily enough he thinks oral is pretty scandalous at first, but god he loves when you suck him off, lapping and trying to take all of him even though it’s probably impossible

Bo Sinclair

> maybe listing kinks he doesn’t have would be faster

> in all seriousness, there are quite a few he’d be gunning for when the topic comes up for the first time

> he loves being called daddy or sir, or would accept most other dom titles

> he’s super into roleplay- but he loses the plot pretty fast

> he love love loves tying you up and using you as he pleases

> if you trust him enough he’ll gag you too, and maybe leave you tied up while he goes to take care of business

> he likes spanking and biting and bruising your hips from gripping you too tightly

> and he likes kissing all of the little marks he left for days afterwards

>making sure they heal properly, he always says, though he’s quick to replace them

> if you can manage to get him to sub- big if- he’s an incredibly whiny and desperate brat. but taking him can be fun.

Billy Lenz

> he’s the switch of the century 🔥🔥🔥

> he alternates so frequently between praise and degradation that it’s jarring at times

> “oh just look at my pretty whore- you like billy’s cock? take it like the fucking slut you are—“

> and he loves loves loves being on the receiving end of both as well

> he has an oral fixation, big time. And if your fingers aren’t in his mouth, his fingers are in yours

> and, to no one’s surprise, he loves phone sex

> he’ll call you from the attic as foreplay

> and he loves watching you, peeping through the wall as you put on a show for him

> he loves edging- mostly on the receiving end

> and when he finally cums, he wants it to be all over your face or chest.

Danny Johnson

> borderline exhibitionist. maybe not even borderline.

> y’all are fucking in the car, in alleys, anywhere you can have just enough privacy

> and man oh man, is he going to take so many pictures of you

> posed on the bed or on your knees in front of him or freshly fucked and nearly in tears

> when he has you screaming, he wants to hear his name, not anything else

> he’s a hair puller, and he’s more than happy to choke you

> if you ask nicely, that is. he’ll have you beg for most things

> he calls you his kitty or puppy, or baby doll if you don’t like either of those

> if you stroke his ego and praise him, he’ll do absolutely anything you want

> he’ll even be a good boy and bottom for you if he trusts you enough - though he’s an absolute pillow prince when he does bottom

Hannibal Lecter

> debatably the “worst” of the bunch

> he’s the type to really commit to BDSM dynamics

> you WILL call him master, and he’ll probably call you “my pet”

> he likes choking, spanking, the whole nine yards that a lot of the other

> but he very much has a knife kink, and a blood kink. he likes giving little nicks and lapping the blood up, getting a proper taste of you

> of course he can live without it, but if you let him indulge you’d be greatly rewarded

> and even with his strictly dominant nature, he is a very generous master

> he loves going down on you, and he loves overstimulating you when he does

> he’ll have you whining before he gets past your thighs, seeming to always know just what to do make you squirm

[noneorother]

The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1

part 1 l part 2

This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.

I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover

Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great

2. The duelling US covers

Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.

Tier: Blessed by God Herself

3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover

How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF

4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers

This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)

5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued

I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.

Tier: Bad

6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover

For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job

7. France, De bons présages cover

Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)

8. France, De bons présages covers continued

Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.

Tier: WTF

9. France, De bons présages covers continued

Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad

10. France, De bons présages covers continued

Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF

END of round one. I need a nap.

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

14: War Of Hormones

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: 👀🤭

a/n: HIIIIIIII!!!! The moment I thought about a title for this chapter I had it very very clear, and somehow it made me go back to my BTS era... ANYWAY!!! Hoping everyone likes this one hehe

IMPORTANT: If someone wants to give me ideas of names you are very welcome! And ideas for a gender reveal too, I want to make it special and include your ideas!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

Pinterest

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Facing a change often brings a mix of emotions.

At first, there's a sense of uncertainty and anxiety, as the familiar comfort zone is disrupted. This can feel like a tightness in the chest or a knot in the stomach. Alongside this, there's also a sense of anticipation and excitement about the new possibilities and opportunities that change might bring. 

The mind races with 'what ifs' and potential outcomes, creating a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, of pros and cons, and doubts and hopes.

When Charles and I arrived at the house, the mix of emotions settled into a more tangible form. I tried not to think about the kisses he pressed on my knuckles or the squeezes he gave my thigh.

I knew something changed between us, that the tension was still there but it transformed into something else, something less forced and awkward. We didn't want to give a name to it, opting to stay quiet and only communicating with our eyes and smiles, with touches and acts.

While I made dinner, Charles changed clothes, fed my cat, and moved around the kitchen. I felt him behind me, watching over my shoulder, his presence a warm, silent pressure.

“Smells good” he whispered, close to my ear.

I took a deep breath before nodding and smiling, trying to not then my head to look at him. I just focused on the food in front of me and anything else. Not even his presence behind me. Not even his breathing against my hair. Not even his warmth.

“Thank you” I said, sounding more rough than I wanted, clearing my throat and swallowing thickly.

He moved away and in the moment I could finally breathe. 

God, this is going to be hard.

“Dinner's ready” I sighed, putting the food on plates. “I'm going to get changed”

“If you want, you can grab some of my clothes” he suggested, his voice soft.

“O-oh… Don't worry” I nodded, blushing.

I walked upstairs and looked at the door of his room, taking a deep breath. Should I grab his clothes? He said I could… And the bottoms of my pajamas barely fit me anymore. Yeah, maybe I can grab a pair of joggers.

I took a deep breath and sighed, opening the door of his room and then going to the wardrobe. When I saw the joggers I smiled, grabbing a pair, noticing that he came with many pairs. 

And then I saw it. The plushie. My cat plushie, the one I loved when I was a kid and thought I had lost. I extended my hand and held it, looking at it with wide eyes. It's my plushie, definitely. Washed, somehow fixed, but my plushie. 

I held it close to my chest, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes tightly, to prevent the tears from falling.

“I found it when you left from Greek” 

I gasped softly, turning around with the little cat still pressed on my chest.

“And you kept it all this time?” I whisper. “Charles…”

“I wanted to give it back to you so many times, but you always ran away” he sighed. “So I thought about bringing it for our baby”

“Oh, Charles” I smiled, placing my hand on my belly.

“I kept it all this time, just as a reminder of my first love” be sighed, walking towards me. “And when I went back home to grab clothes and bring them here, I found it in my wardrobe”

I smiled softly, watching how he walked closer towards me, placing his hand on my belly and rubbing it softly.

“I want the best for you and our baby, Dafne” he whispered. 

“And you'll be the best” I nodded. “Just… Trust yourself more, believe in yourself”

He nodded and sighed, taking a step back, again.

God, no. I want him close, closer. I need him to touch me. I need his touch, so bad.

“Let's go have dinner” he said, walking out of his room.

I took a deep breath, getting changed quickly with his clothes and going to my room to leave my own clothes. I placed my plushie on top of my bed and smiled weakly, sighing.

Charles was already downstairs, with the plates already on the table in front of the TV. He was sitting on the couch looking at his phone, writing things on it.

“I was thinking… I know we said that we were only going to tell Pierre about the pregnancy” Charles said, looking up at me and following me with his eyes. “But, I think it will be better if we just tell them through the group chat. Tell all the drivers. Just in case the media ask them things, so they can help us”

“Are you saying that we should lie to them too?” I sighed, sitting next to him. 

“They can help us, Dafne… If we tell them that we have been dating in secret but our team didn't want us together, I'm sure they will support us” he said, holding my hand.

“Okay” I nodded, sighing. “I just… I wish everything was different”

“Me too, believe me” he nodded.

We had dinner in silence, looking at the TV, and when we finished we just sat there. I felt his eyes on me, making me move and look at him.

“W-what?” I frowned, looking at him.

“Nothing” he smiled. “It's just…”

“Just what?” I make nervous.

“You are glowing” he smiled. “Really. Like, you were always gorgeous. But now? You look like a goddess”

“Idiot” I whisper, looking away, blushing. 

“What? I'm not lying, I swear” he smiled. “You look so beautiful, Dafne. So damn beautiful carrying my baby, and it's so hard for me to stop looking at you”

“And touching me?” I said, regretting immediately what I said.

“Touching you?” he laughed. “God, not doing it is the hardest thing ever”

“And why you don't do it?” I mumbled. 

“Believe me, I'm dying to touch you” he whispered, his voice sounding deeper than before. “I'm fighting myself to not do it”

“I told you that those lines can be crossed” I sighed. 

“No, Dafne” he sighed, shaking his head. “I can't”

I swallowed thickly and looked at him. What lines does he want to cross? 

I sighed, looking away and focusing on the TV screen, or at least tried to. But the way his deep voice sent me shivers was repeating in my mind, making me look at him sometimes, scanning his face with my eyes.

His beard is making him even more attractive, and his lips… God, I don't remember how it feels kissing him, or even touching him. The night we had in Monza was something blurry, I barely remember what happened there.

I wish I could feel that again… 

No. No, Dafne. Stop it.

“I-I was thinking about start… Well, nesting” I whisper.

“Oh?” Charles smiled, turning his head sand looking at me.

“Yeah, well… I just, I guess it's time to start doing it” I sighed. “You know… Buy things, start planning a room. The typical”

Charles never stopped smiling while hearing me, and he moved closer, sitting right next to me with his arm on the back of the couch.

“You want to raise the kid here?” he whispered.

“I mean… I- I don't know” I sighed. “I have my apartment in Florence, and yours is in Monaco. I didn't think about it, actually… Before you came I only wanted to stay here and never leave”

“But then I came and broke all your plans” he sighed, leaning on me to place his hand on my belly.

“Yeah” I sighed. “But… I'm kinda glad you came. I think I needed to have you here, somehow. I can't do this alone, this is way harder than I thought…”

“Hey” he smiled. “We're in this together. I'll go wherever you want to go. You want to stay here? Then I'll come back here. You want to go to your apartment in Florence? Then I'll be there. I'll do whatever you told me to do”

“Thank you, Charles” I smiled, looking up at him.

I found his eyes, his green eyes looking into my eyes. He's so close, so close… I can feel his breath against my lips. Only a few centimeters…

“Cross the line” I whisper, my voice trembling with need. “Cross it…”

“Dafne” he whispered. 

“Please” I whisper, licking my lips, moving my hand to cup his jaw. “Please?”

He sighed, moving back and shaking his head.

“Is it because I'm pregnant?” I frowned. “You say I look beautiful, but you don't even dare to stand behind me, to hold me. Not even kiss me”

“No, Dafne” he sighed, messing his hair with his fingers. “It's not that”

“Then what is it? Please, tell me” I sighed.

“I don't want to hurt you” he said.

“Come on” I laughed, somehow trying to swallow the tears. “You are already hurting me whenever you stand close to me and can't even place your hand on my waist”

“I want to repeat that night!” he snapped, making me flinch, surprised. “I want to remember how it is to touch you, to kiss you. I want to remember how you sound when you moan my name and when you squeeze me. I want to do it over and over again. But I can't do it because I don't want to hurt you and the baby!”

I swallow thickly and look at him, standing up slowly.

“I… I'm going to bed” he sighed. “Good night”

“Charles-” I mumbled watching him go, my heart aching in need of his touch.

But he was already walking upstairs, closing the door of his room.

The bed felt cold and too big, an emptiness that hadn't been there before.

But what changed? Why does it feel cold and big now?

I sighed, turning again in the bed, facing the window, then looking at the digital clock. Five minutes passed since the last time I looked at it.

“Fuck” I groaned, sitting slowly on the bed and looking at the door.

I sighed, pacing the room. Should I go downstairs? Should I go to his room?

And before I could even think about it, I was already in front of his door, with my knuckles hitting the door softly three times.

I heard some steps seconds after knocking and then his door opened.

“Dafne?” he murmured.

“I can't sleep” I whispered back.

“Is the baby kicking hard?” he whispered, placing his hands on both sides of my belly.

“N-no… No” I whisper. “I just… Can you sleep in my bed? Please?”

“Dafne…” he sighed, stepping back and shaking his head, his conflict evident.

“Please. The baby seems calm when your hand is on my belly” I whisper. “And well, I feel good too”

I heard him sigh and I just closed my eyes, taking a step closer and wrapping my arms around him. 

“Look…” I sighed. “I'm going crazy, okay?”

“What? Why?” he whispered, and I sighed in relief when he wrapped his arms around me too.

“Because the fucking hormones are killing me” I groaned. “You just can't say that you want to fuck me and make me moan your name. You really can't do it”

“Dafne…” he sighed.

“You think I don't want to?” I whisper. “Hell. Something changed between us, I know. And it's going so fast that it's scaring me. You know I hate changes, that I hate doing new things. You know how bad it was for me when I moved to Ferrari… And know what is changing is how I look at you”

“But I don't want to hurt the baby, Dafne” he whispered, placing his hand on my head. “I don't want to do something wrong and hurt the baby”

I swallowed thickly and hugged him tighter, with my belly between us.

“Tomorrow morning, we'll go to a doctor” I whisper. 

“Hey, no…”

“Yes” I whisper. “I have to go anyway, hm? We will see our baby and then we'll check if everything is alright. And we'll ask the doctor everything we need to know”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“The hormones are making me horny, Charles” I laughed nervously. “You know how embarrassing it is?”

He chuckled softly, rubbing my back. He rested his chin on top of my head, taking a deep breath and playing with my hair.

“Let's go to bed” he sighed, pulling away and holding my hand, walking us to my room.

I smiled sleepily, holding his hand tight and then rubbing my belly, taking a deep breath when I saw Charles walking inside of my room and going straight to my bed.

“Left?” he whispered, making me nod.

He moved the covers of the bed so he could lay on the left side, opening the covers for me to lay next to him.

“Hold me” I whispered looking at him. “Please?”

He smiled and nodded, moving closer. I followed his movements with my eyes, taking a deep breath to ignore the anxiety of the situation. 

“Can I… Can I try something?” he whispered.

I nodded looking at him. He smiled and took the covers out looking at me, his eyes asking for permission.

“Go on” I whisper, feeling shivers all over my body.

A soft gasp escaped me as his hand gently lifted my shirt, revealing my belly. His hand, warm and gentle, began to rub my skin.

“There it is” he whispered, smiling amazed.

Until now, the only person that touched my bare belly besides myself was the doctor that told me the news, who had to do a scan to check if everything was alright.  And now, looking at Charles admiring it, only makes my heart beat faster.

I flinched softly when I felt his hand on my skin, but relaxed immediately when he started rubbing it. His hand is so big, practically covering my belly with it.

“Hey baby” he whispered, his voice filled with pure love, making my heart jump. 

He's talking to the baby.

“It's me, dad” he smiled, moving on the bed to be face to face with my stomach. “I can't wait to meet you, little one. Really, I can't wait”

I took a deep breath and placed my hand on top of his head, burying my fingers on his hair and closing my eyes when I felt his lips on my stomach, pressing tender kisses there. He wrapped his arm around my hips, rubbing his thumb over my stomach.

“I just… God, Dafne. This is the best thing you could ever give to me” he whispered looking up at me. “A kid…”

“Yeah” I smiled. 

“And in part it makes me hate myself for all the pain I gave you” he whispered. “And how bad it was the moment we made it…”

“The past is the past” I sighed. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's just focus on what we have now, on this chance of be the best version of ourselves”

He looked at me and smiled, resting his chin on top of my belly, carefully. He held my head and kissed it, taking a deep breath before pressing a new kiss on my belly button.

“Saying thank you is not enough for everything you are doing” he whispered. 

I smile weakly and squeeze his hand softly, taking a deep breath.

The way he looks at me is new. How he kisses my belly, how he closes his eyes when he does that. How he smiles, rubbing the tip of his nose and making me giggle softly.

“Come on, let's sleep” I whisper, yawning softly.

He smiled and nodded, moving to be in front of me but not pulling down the shirt. His face was in front of mine, his eyes looking into mine.

“Hi” I whisper smiling, biting my lip softly.

“Hi” he smiled.

I looked at him and took a deep breath, placing my hand on his jaw, rubbing my thumb over his cheek.

“Dafne…”

And then I did it.

I leaned in, my hand cupping his cheek as I pressed my lips to his in a kiss that held all the emotions I had kept locked away, deep inside of my heart. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then it deepened, fueled by the months of longing and tension that had built up between us.

Charles responded immediately, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer. The kiss was a release, a breaking of the dam that had held back our feelings for so long. My fingers tangled in his hair, my body pressing against his as I poured everything into that moment.

When we pulled away, both of us were breathless, resting our foreheads against the other.

“I told you that you can cross all the lines you want” I whisper, making him chuckle softly.

“I want to cuddle you” he whispered, making me nod and smile.

“All the times you want” I smiled, closing my eyes and letting him get comfortable in my bed beside me.

The next morning, his hand was under my shirt, gently rubbing my belly just as he has done last night.

I groaned softly, moving closer to him and feeling his warm chest on my back, sighing happily.

“Good morning” he whispered, his lips brushing my shoulder, making me smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing” I whisper, turning my head, looking at him.

“That's good” he smiled, pressing his lips in the corner of my mouth. “So… What are today's plans?”

“Well… We can go to the village” I sighed, turning around slowly and hugging him. “Ask the doctor to have a fast appointment, meet our baby, and maybe go buy things”

“Mhm, sounds nice” he smiled, kissing my forehead.

The tension left my shoulders the moment he kissed me back last night, and this morning, and during all the times he woke up at night pressing a kiss on my shoulder.

“And we should call Fred…” I sighed, biting my lip when I heard him groan. “I know, I know…”

“It's just…” he sighed, pulling me closer. “I'm so happy in this bubble we’re in. I don't want to mess things up. I just… Can't we wait a little? Just a few more days”

I looked up at him and smiled weakly.

He's right, we are in a bubble, ignoring the outside world, just focusing on us. For once, we were acting like normal people.

“Alright” I sighed. 

I took a deep breath and hugged him, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist. As I tangled my leg with his, he flinched slightly.

“Eh… Wait” he whispered, tensing.

“What? What’s wrong?” I frowned, following his gaze. “O-oh…”

“Y-yeah” he sighed.

I swallowed thickly and moved, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

“I mean…” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “I could…”

“No, no” he said quickly. “God no, not yet. Just…”.

He sighed, sitting quickly on the bed and getting out, going to the bathroom of my room.

So that's what happened yesterday too. He had to leave the bed quickly because of his morning hood. 

“Fantastic” I groaned, covering my eyes with my arm.

I heard him opening the water of the shower, then his groans. God, if only… I could help him.

I got up from bed and grabbed the joggers I was wearing, walking slowly to the door of the bathroom and knocking on it.

“I'm going to make breakfast” I said, opening the door a little. “And I'll call the doctor to see when we can go”

“S-sure!” he gasped.

God… Send help.

I shook my head, rubbing my belly while I walked downstairs to get our breakfast ready. When I finished, and noticing that Charles didn't get out of the bathroom yet, I called the doctor to set an appointment.

“Hey” Charles sighed, walking inside the kitchen with an awkward smile. “Look…”

“I could have touched you, Charles” I whispered. “I could have help you, you didn't have to go to the bathroom and hide”

“I know, I know” he sighed, standing in front of me, and something inside of me threw a party when he placed his hands on my hips. “It's just… I want to do it all, okay? Go all in”

I smiled weakly and looked at him, nodding. He leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss on my forehead, making me close my eyes and breathe deeply, smiling when I recognized the shower gel I use.

“I called the doctor” I said. “We can go whenever we want, she's free this morning”

“Oh?” he frowned, surprised. 

“Advantages of being near a village that doesn't have over a hundred of people living there” I smiled softly.

“Oh, okay” he smiled. 

I looked up at him, smiling while leaning on the counter. He placed his hands on my sides and leaned slowly, pressing his lips on mine, kissing me softly and slowly, with no rush.

“I can't believe I can do this” he whispered against my lips before kissing me again. “I've dreamed of doing it for so long… For tasting your lips again… It's been a while…”

I pulled away slowly, looking at him with a sad smile.

“All this time?” I whisper.

“Since you kissed me in Greece” he smiled. 

I smile softly and peck his lips quickly. He pulled away and helped me grabbing the breakfast, placing it on the table and sitting in front of me. 

Time went by fast, and before we noticed, he was already parking his car in front of the medical center of the village, holding my hand and waiting to get called.

“It will be okay” he whispered, placing his hand on my knee after noticing how I was bouncing it nervously.

“I know” I whisper.

“Dafne Morelli?”

We stood up, still holding hands, as the nurse called my name and led us into the consultation room. An older woman sat behind the desk, smiling warmly as we entered.

“It was a surprise for me when I heard your voice this morning through the call” she said. “You must be Elena's daughter, right?”

“Y-yeah” I smile weakly.

“Well, let me tell you that I was your mom's doctor during your little sister's pregnancy” she smiled, making me gasp softly. “She was one of my first patients… God, how fast time flies, hm?”

I smiled nodding slowly, looking at her. She gestured to us to sit on the chairs in front of her desk.

“He might be your husband, hm?” she smiled looking at Charles.

“O-oh! No, no! We… We are not married” I gasped, shaking my head. “But he's the father of the baby”

“Oh good to know” she smiled, winking at us. “Well, tell me. How is it going?”

I took a deep breath and told her everything. My career, how I found out I was pregnant, how far, what the first doctor said… Everything.

“Well, then let's take a look on the bed, yeah?” she smiled.

I nodded, getting up followed by Charles. He helped me sit on the high bed and then I raised up the jumper I was wearing, taking a deep breath when the doctor grabbed the gel. I flinched when she spread it with the stick and immediately held Charles hand.

“Well, well… Let's take a look” she smiled, looking at the screen. “For what I can see you are around the week 17, close to the fifth month. Right now, your baby is of the size of a pear”

“Yeah” I nodded, looking at Charles.

“Do you know the gender?” We shook our heads and she smiled. “You want to know?”

“W-we… We actually wanted to do a little gender reveal, so if you could print the results…” Charles said softly, squeezing my hand.

“Oh, sure!” she nodded, pressing a button on the keyboard and then the printer started working. “Are you ready to look and hear your baby?”

Charles and I looked at each other with a smile, holding our hands tightly. We nodded nervously, taking a deep breath before the doctor turned the screen to us.

“Here, there is your baby” she smiled, moving the stick over my belly again and making the picture of the screen change.

I gasped, tears immediately springing to my eyes. It was so small, but so perfect. I turned to look at Charles, his eyes wide with amazement, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was speechless, just staring at the screen in awe.

And then we heard it. A steady, fast and rhythmic thumping filled the room: our baby’s heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

I looked back at the screen, mesmerized by the tiny life growing inside me, and then back at Charles. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears, his expression one of pure joy.

"That’s… that’s our baby" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I nodded, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. I reached up and wiped away a tear from his cheek, my own tears streaming freely down my face. 

"Yes, that’s our baby," I managed to say, my voice trembling with happiness.

The doctor gave us a moment, letting us soak in the incredible sight and sound. 

"Everything looks perfect," she said, her voice gentle. "The heartbeat is strong and steady."

The doctor printed out a couple of ultrasound images for us, and Charles held them carefully, as if they were the most precious thing in the world. 

"Look at this," he said, showing me the tiny, grainy image. "Our baby."

"Our baby," I repeated, feeling a sense of peace and happiness wash over me.

I smiled, feeling his lips against mine before he pulled away and grabbed some napkins to clean my belly, taking the chance and kissing my belly quickly.

“I… Well, we wanted to know some things” I said nervously, holding Charles' hand.

“Oh, sure” she nodded, writing on her laptop.

“W-well… Is it if we… Well” I mumbled blushing, looking at Charles.

“Oh! Oh, yes” she laughed softly. “Yeah, I get it. Young love! Of course you can. It's safe for the baby, don't worry about it”

“Oh, thank you” I nodded, sighing ashamed.

“Cuties” she chuckled. 

I blushed and looked at Charles, biting my lip. He held my hand and grabbed everything the doctor gave us and walked out with me.

“Well, what do you want to do now?” Charles smiled, holding my hand tightly.

I took a deep breath and looked at him, biting my lip. 

“I…”

And then a flash. Flash of a camera. Then another. And another.

“Fuck” Charles groaned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and walking quickly towards the door of the car, helping me get in.

I looked around surprised, watching the small number of paparazzi taking pictures of us. Then they called our names, taking more pictures.

“Shit” Charles groaned, getting in the car and driving quickly away from the village. 

“H-how? How did they find us?” I mumble, looking back through the mirror. 

“I don't know” Charles groaned. “Are you okay?” 

I nodded quickly, placing a protective hand over my belly and then holding his free hand.

They found me. They found us. 

The three of us.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05

[tkwrites]

Please - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif by 40ep

Title: Please

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: After they finally move in together, Sarah follows through with Quinn's request for her to edge him.

Warnings: smut (18+ only), unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you're in a consenting relationship!) p in v, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, slight domination, sub Quinn

Word count: 2,600

Comments: The idea for this came to me in the wee morning about two weeks ago. I started writing right away, and it kind of took on a life of its own. It's beyond smutty and a little outside my usual wheelhouse and comfort zone. All the same, I hope you enjoy! If you do, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask! Your feedback gives me so much inspiration to keep writing.

Please

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Sarah,” Quinn begged, “Sarah, please.” 

She ignored him, continuing to trace her mouth over his left thigh. 

A moan that was thoroughly pornographic — laced with frustration and desire — left his mouth. 

“Sarah,” he said again, hips shifting up. 

He was going to die. She was going to kill him if he didn’t get some relief. 

Looking past his hard, weeping member, she found him flushed and sweaty, mouth contorted into a sort of pleasured grimace as he held on for her. 

A pang of guilt twisted her stomach before she reminded herself he wanted this. 

Still, she decided, it had been enough. 

She was moving. Thank god, she was moving. Her stomach brushed against his cock as she crawled over him, and he breathed a deep sigh. It wasn’t as good as her mouth or her core, but at this point, anything touching, anything garnering even a little bit of relief was better than nothing. 

Her mouth dipped to his neck, and he whimpered, gripping the silk ties to keep himself from rutting against her. He’d made that mistake earlier in the night, and it had resulted in a sharp admonition, a disappointed look, and caused her to not put her mouth on him again until he’d made her come another time. 

The memory of it made him tremble. “Sarah, please.”

She pulled away, looking into his face as she swept his sweaty hair back. “Please what?” she asked innocently. 

“Can I come? Please?” 

A soft smile spread over her lips, and hope ignited inside him. 

It wavered when she paused, a thoughtful look on her face. 

“I don’t know,” she said, finally. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could possibly last. 

When he’d asked her for this, he hadn’t expected…well he wasn’t totally sure what he’d expected. He certainly hadn’t expected her to slide into the part so easily. Sarah could be sassy, but it wasn’t her usual way of being. He couldn’t deny that seeing her this way brought out a heavy, thick desire in him he’d never experienced. 

He’d never been edged before, never dominated like this, but he’d thought about it so often in their many weeks apart that summer. This fantasy of her in charge made its way into the regular rotation when he was missing her. When he finally moved back and she finally moved in, he asked her for it, the prospect that it could become a reality too consuming to resist.

Now that it was really happening, he had no idea where all his restraint was coming from. He supposed all the conditioning for hockey probably played a role. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded fervently. 

“Tell me.” 

“I’ve been good,” he said, voice even more husky. 

“You have been very good,” she consented but didn’t do or say anything else. 

He would have to plead his case. “I made you come so many times.”

“How many?” she asked, mouth dangerously close to his ear. 

The lustful haze surrounding his brain made it hard for him to think. He couldn’t forget how close her skin was to his, how hot her breath felt on his cheek. 

“How many, Quinn?” she repeated as her tongue trailed from the bottom of his ear to the bottom of his neck. A streak of fire whipped down his spine. 

The first time had been on his cock right at the beginning of the night. She’d tied his wrists to the bed, one near each corner, with two swaths of silk she seemed to produce out of thin air. She then climbed on top of him, lubed him up and sunk onto him without any kind of preamble. 

He had thought watching her ride him without being able to touch her — forced to watch her slip and circle her own fingers over her clit — while holding himself back as she fluttered around him, squeezing him within an inch of his life, was torture. 

It turned out he had no idea what was to come. 

A short while after that was the rutting incident. He’d almost shot off, slicking himself through her soft, smooth center as she kissed his neck torturously slow. The pleasured noise that left his throat couldn’t be stopped, and she’d darted away with a rebuke before he could actually come.

As his penance, she’d untied his right hand so he could get her off as she knelt next to him, knees spread wide so he could see her glistening core take his fingers so well. Watching her come undone, head thrown back, one arm behind to hold herself up while the other hand massaged her own nipples, he swore he could have come right along with her without her even touching him. 

His train of thought was interrupted as the palm of her hand slipped over the front of his hip, trailing a soft touch by the base of his shaft. His whole body twitched.

“How many?” she repeated.

Pride washed over him, remembering the way he had brought her to climax before she tied his hand down again. He’d begged to clean his fingers, desperate to taste her. Instead, she’d hovered over him so he could drink her nectar straight from the source. He’d thrust his tongue into her and felt like he might just waste away if he didn’t get his dick in her soon. 

How long ago had that been? It felt like hours. 

“Three,” he gasped. 

Sarah could practically see his thoughts as the fascinated, hungry expression he wore when he watched her come ghosted over Quinn’s beautiful face.

“You’re sure?” 

He nodded fervently. There had been at least three. He forced his mind into coherent memory, trying to decipher if he’d fantasized one of them. 

“I could have sworn it was four.” 

“You would know better,” he conceded quickly. Maybe he’d missed one, too concentrated on not coming himself. 

She hummed, looking him over as she trailed a hand up his chest. His skin had taken on the most beautiful pink flush in the hazy light filtering through the rain splattered windows. His chest rose and fell in steep little jerks. He really was rock hard, pre-come dripping and dribbling onto his pelvis, sweaty and slick. 

Despite being tied down for so long, he still resisted the restraints, pulling the silk taut before fatigue would set into his arms, and he had to rest for a moment. It was as if he couldn’t help himself. Like the desire to touch her was just too strong. As he went through this routine again, dropping back to the mattress panting, she decided it had been long enough. 

“You’re such a good boy, Quinn.” 

She’d never imagined those words coming out of her mouth, but when he told her he liked it as they started talking about this whole edging idea, she’d found them easier and easier to say. Especially after seeing the pride and pleasure that took over his face each time they left her lips. 

He whined and nodded his agreement. 

“I think you’ve earned some relief,” she said. 

Thank god. His chest caved in a deep sigh. Oh, thank God.

“Do you want my mouth?” 

He nodded. 

“Or my pussy?” 

He nodded again, biting his lip as if the very idea of having her wrapped around him was bringing him too close to the edge. 

“You can’t come in both.”

He’d been hard so long, it felt like he might just stiffen right back up so he could. If only. 

On second thought, that might actually kill him.

“M-mouth first,” he finally managed to say, “but I want to come inside you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Okay.” 

She shifted back to kneel between his legs, and he ventured to ask, “will you untie me?” 

“Not yet,” she said before fastening her hot mouth to him. 

She sucked the pre-come off his shaft, her tongue flat against him in long, slow strokes, savoring the taste. 

A groan rang through the room, loud, earnest, and laced with relief and gratitude. 

When she took him deep and his hips jumped, she didn’t even admonish him. He’d earned a little bad behavior. He’d been so patient. 

She worked back to his tip, suction and tongue so intense it felt like she might just suck the very life out of him.

His eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering when she pulled off him with an audible pop. Restraint he didn’t know he had somehow held him back from coming.

She straddled him. He felt beyond grateful. Beyond turned on. Beyond anything he’d ever felt in his life. He felt like his skin might just melt off, it was so hot. 

Forcing his eyes to stay open, he watched her lower herself onto him, watched himself disappear into her tight heat, watched her mouth fall open in a silent scream. 

He was already pulsing. Or maybe that was her. It was hard to tell whose body was whose when they were fused together this way. 

She leaned forward to work the tie on his left wrist undone. 

Taking advantage of her position, he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, relishing the shiver that ran through her, right to her core. If he got enough pleasure flowing through her veins, she would come faster, and he wouldn’t have to hold on as long. 

She sat back up, shifting him a little deeper.

His eyes rolled back. “Sarah, please —” 

“Just one more time,” she whispered. “As soon as I come, you can.”  

Sarah was already so sensitive. Too sensitive, really, to be taking him again. She hadn’t planned on coming four times. She hadn’t really planned on anything other than teasing him, but it became obvious how much he enjoyed watching her come as he held himself back. So she’d come. Once on his cock, and twice on his fingers. She’d planned to be done then, thinking she’d suck him off as a finale, but the way he’d fought to get his fingers to his mouth, begging to taste her, made desire ripple to life in her once more. 

Taking advantage of his prone state to fulfill a fantasy of her own, she lowered her center to his mouth. As his tongue thrust into her, the bridge of his lovely nose had pressed against her clit, bringing her to a climax that was beyond anything she’d experienced. 

Now that his length was inside her again, rigid and twitching, electricity shivered through her, walking a thin line between pleasure and pain. 

“Quinn,” she breathed. 

He moaned. 

“Quinn, you need to be really gentle.”

His head jerked in a nod. “What do you want?” he rasped. 

God, his voice lit her on fire. How could this much desire be coursing through her again? “Make me come, Quinn.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed reverently.

She’d only untied his left hand. He was glad to have it below his head, but it felt like a useless tool. He fumbled, trying to make the non-dominant, blood starved fingers work the way he wanted them to. Winding to the apex of her thighs. He ghosted his thumb over her, barely touching. 

“Oh,” she moaned. 

Once he found the right spot, on the sensitive underside of her clit, he rested the pad of his thumb there, providing direct, gentle pressure she could move against. Her eyes rolled back and she flexed around him. He devoured the pleasure that rolled across her face. 

Just a little while longer, he told himself. Just a few more seconds. Then, a few more after that.

“Fuck me, that feels so good, Quinn.” 

God, he wanted to be the only one who got to fuck her for the rest of his life. 

It didn’t take long. She was so sensitive and so turned on from the whole night that it felt like he just needed to flip a switch, and she was coming undone again. The look he was giving her: loving, lustful, and proud was the final catalyst, sending her careening over the edge.

As soon as she constricted around him twice, he was gone. Done for. 

Shouting his pleasure, he came harder than he ever had in his life. His whole body tensed, hips thrust up, desperate to get more of himself inside her. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.” 

She collapsed on top of him.

Feeling the release of his orgasm unknot his muscles, he tried to catch his breath. It was a good thing he didn’t have practice the next day. He would need time to recover from this. 

A while later (time had lost its importance) she pushed herself up, hands on either side of his shoulders. 

He whined but didn’t try to stop her as she lifted her hips. 

They both hissed at the loss. 

Before slipping off the bed to clean up, she leaned over and undid the other tie. Smoothing her thumb over the soft inside of his wrist, she murmured, “you did so good. You were so good to me, Quinn.” 

He made a pleased little noise. 

She slipped off the bed, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up before coming back to him with a glass of water. By that time, he’d recovered enough to sit up against the headboard.

“Do you want to take a shower?” she asked.

How could she think about something so mundane? He was busy trying to relive the entire evening. He gulped the water and thought about her noises, the way she felt. 

Remembering it made him twitch with desire. It wasn’t too surprising when it hurt a bit.

Once he took a deep breath and let it out again, mirroring the same thing he did after winding down from a game, Sarah knew he was ready to talk. 

“Do you want to shower?” she repeated. 

He should, but his legs felt like lead. Screwing up his determination, he gulped the last of the water before nodding. 

“Did I do okay?” she asked as he slipped to the edge of the bed, his hand trailing over one of the silk ties. 

His eyes darted to hers, worried she somehow thought different. “You were perfect.” 

And she had been. Bossy and assertive, but her same loving tenderness was still there, under all that. She was still Sarah, she’d just put on a costume for the night.

Once the water was warmed up, she pulled him into the shower with her.

He let her soap him up, loving her gentle caresses with her loofah. She was even using her vanilla soap, and the smell surrounded them, replacing the sweaty, musky smell of sex with the lighter, sweeter fragrance he associated so much with her. 

When she moved on to washing his hair, he practically moaned as his fatigued legs shook. “You’re going to put me to sleep,” he murmured. 

Sarah giggled and continued scratching her nails over his scalp. 

He rinsed off and took over the loofah to soap her up, carefully memorizing the contours of her body. 

Finally out of the shower, they did the after shower things, and Quinn helped Sarah replace the sheets. 

Settling back into the soft bed, Sarah asked, “Do you feel okay?” 

“Never better,” he said, a dopey little smile taking over his face.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulled the blankets up, and brought him against her for a well-deserved night of rest. 

Want more Quinn and Sarah? Check out the Sanpshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[bwat5-blog]

Did Jinx Love Vi?

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

Okay. First let me say I am not here to attack or insult Jinx. The title is literally just addressing the question I'm hoping to answer so.. put down the torches and pitchforks. I recently had a very nice short talk with someone on one of their posts, and it was primarily to do with this issue of how Jinx treats Vi in the show. And in truth, I share a lot of their feelings. For the most part, we never really get a moment of Jinx outwardly showing any sympathy or kindness to Vi at all until almost the end. As I always do for clarity let me be crystal clear. Vi is my favorite character. But I think most people watching objectively can agree she tries really fucking hard for the people she loves and gets kicked in the teeth almost constantly.

*Not writing in my usual spot to look up these quotes so some may be paraphrased*

" Never thought my sister would turn blue-belly"- Literally there because of what Jinx did

"I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of prison while you were passed out at the bottom of a mug"- Vi completely spiraling after losing literally everyone she loves and Jinx knowing full well she didn't step in for Zaun until they took Isha

" She used to be pretty cool, til I kicked her ass"- literally the fight where Jinx lured Vi down there hoping to die and it ended with her on her back urging Vi to finish her.

Smirks at Vi when Vi sees the Mural of her and Vander. Even though Jinx literally betrayed everything Vander ever stood for and considers the man who murdered Vander and caused the deaths of their brothers her father. All while Vi is nowhere to be seen.

Now, there is obviously history between them, Jinx has her reasons to be angry just like Vi does. NEITHER ARE PERFECT. But these few examples are not exaggerated or spun. And they are just a few of many. It can really come off like Jinx just does NOT care what happened to Vi at all:

Seven years in Stillwater undergoing god knows what kind of hell

Almost killed getting back to her in the undercity before being taken by firelights

Almost killed by Jinx on the bridge

Almost killed by Silco at the same event where she begs Cait for Jinx life and Jinx responds by murdering Caitlyn's mother

Has clearly been driven so far by Jinx's actions and what has happened that she becomes Enforcer

Abandoned by Caitlyn and on self-destructive spiral that will very likely kill her because Caitlyn has lost her self after everything Jinx has done to her.

However, I think there are some things we need to remember to better understand this issue:

Jinx is severely mentally ill. I know this is obvious. But it matters because everything she says and does is filtered through a different lens than the average person.

Jinx hates herself and in season 2 especially, wants to die until she bonds with Isha. She gives us evidence of this repeatedly but the moment I most remember is when she meets Isha for the very first time and describes knowing she could die at any time as the best feeling in the world. Then goes on to associate herself with cursing a a sister, a family or a society, I think it was.

"I'm losing my snappy comebacks"- Part of Jinx's whole schtick is verbally lashing out. She mocks everyone, at all times, for any reason. It doesn't make it kind or right. It's just what she does. She also absolutely knows precisely what to say to piss her sister off. Like any good little sister would. Additionally, you may be the person yourself but if not, we all know that person whose defense mechanism is cruel or sarcastic words. While Jinx is plenty dangerous, more often than not when she feels insulted/threatened/uncomfortable she goes for the death blow verbally.

Considering all of that, while there are moments I wish she could have shown Vi alittle more kindness and love, especially with how much Vi loves her, I think Jinx's love for Vi remains constant throughout the show, even if her motormouth sometimes makes it hard to see:

The Reunion:

Even after all the terrible things in their childhood, including the incident for which Vi carries so much guilt and some of the fandom think a fifteen year old Vi should have been crucified for, this is how their reunion starts. Vi apologizes immediately and embraces her. Jinx is crying and ashamed of how she has changed but Vi accepts her and loves her. It only goes wrong when Jinx sees Caitlyn, and why is she mad at Caitlyn who she has never seen or met?

Cyclops and lefty to the rescue. Silco to turn Jinx against Vi and Sevika intentionally trying to damage Jinx's mental health, both of these figures poison Jinx against Caitlyn ruining the next several times they get close. But all throughout that series of events we see Jinx trying to overpower the voices in her head because she knows Vi loves her, and she loves VI. Just unfortunately, she does not win.

2. Seeing Vi As An Enforcer:

Now this isn't a happy moment of course. But Jinx isn't so distraught at seeing Vi in the uniform because she doesn't care about Vi. She is seeing what she believes is the total rejection of her by the last person she has who loves her and who she loves, all wrapped up in the package that killed her parents

3. Jinx VS Vi:

Even during the fight Jinx wanted to end in her death, when Isha gets involved and sticks a gun in Vi's face Jinx IMMEDIATELY screams no.

4. Jinx At the Pit:

If you slow down the cinematic of Vi's time in the pit, is actually shown a few times not just the once. Now I admit this is head-canon and probably the least provable one of these. But I don't think Jinx would have show up again and again to take pleasure in or mock Vi's pain. I think she was just checking on her in the best way her mind knew how.

5. Vander:

I already mentioned how their last interaction went, and the fact that Jinx came to Vi anyway to try and rebuild their family knowing full-well Vi would likely want to kill her is impressive and a clear sign of JInx's desire for them all to be together again.

There are plenty more examples to either point (particularly the MASSIVE example of how Jinx feels about vi in the end of the show), this was quick and not my usual quality. But the thought struck me and I wanted to jump on it. Feel free to share your thoughts same/different or otherwise, I appreciate all of you who take time out of your day to read my thoughts. Even when they are quick and slap-dash like this.

The story of these sisters is one that for me, will live on forever. Have a great day.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time. 

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall. 

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes. 

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you. 

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them. 

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.  

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?” 

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head. 

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek. 

“you sure are,” he says, warmly. 

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.  

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality. 

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second. 

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout. 

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you. 

and you still don’t feel like a guest. 

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine. 

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass. 

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own. 

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine. 

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch. 

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?” 

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’” 

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest. 

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper. 

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect. 

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more. 

“you are,” you argue. 

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day. 

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting. 

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere. 

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.” 

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.  

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree. 

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh. 

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back. 

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head. 

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement. 

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be. 

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies. 

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand. 

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down. 

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind. 

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall. 

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can. 

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark. 

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer. 

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours. 

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep. 

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again. 

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them. 

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things. 

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”  

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“samu,” you whine. 

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore. 

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does. 

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one. 

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face. 

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly. 

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little. 

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses. 

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you. 

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.  

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment. 

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert. 

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it. 

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets. 

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine. 

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will. 

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours. 

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him. 

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them. 

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock. 

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock. 

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.” 

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face. 

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.” 

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you. 

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something. 

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going. 

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod. 

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms. 

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it. 

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer. 

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t. 

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t. 

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you. 

“what now?” you mumble, not moving. 

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him. 

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket. 

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs. 

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

you look happy there. 

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

[cupidssorbet]

COD CHARACTER DICK ANALYSIS.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ COD Characters x Reader.

Characters Included: John Price, Ghost “Simon” Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, and John “Soap” Mactavish.

Summary: Title says it all!

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Note: This is part 1 of not sure how many but I saw these kinds of things for other characters so I’m doing it for these guys! just know more prompts will be coming as well as other things! :)

Content/Includes: In the title! PS remember that this is just what I think and everyone has different opinions!

NOT PROOFED, MAJOR MAJOR INSPO TO @arachine because their dick series is my biggest inspo for this cod one so PLEASE PLEASE go check out their blog!!

PS IM FINALLY BACK AFTER BEING BUSY FOR SO LONG AND I DO PLAN ON BETTING TO ASKS AND OTHER PROMPTS!!

Enjoy! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ✧

Price:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 8 inches flaccid and 9 erect, NOW HERE ME OUT, he’s 6’0 from what I learned on Google and I mean, do you see and HEAR this man? He’s a captain, he’s got those mutton chops, he’s absolutely got something that slaps his thigh when he walks.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: He’s not skinny, and he’s not split you open girthy, it’s that good median some where between that gives you that good stretch but isn’t painful.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: Price isn’t PALE pale so down south he’s got a little tan to it, his tip is just a bit darker compared to his dick, like if I have to give a hexcode AND I WILL, it’s #D29A7C.

+

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: Do you see those mutton chops?? He is neat and tidy, his carpet matches the drapes in a sense of being not messy or anything just neat and all put together.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: VEINS, UGH, you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn’t got a few veins along the bottom and on the side. A few thick ones that rub just right when riding him, he’s also got not majorly noticeable curve but a slight curve to it.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He’s a giver, I saw someone say this I wholeheartedly agree, he’s a giver, he likes you riding him and taking it as you please his hands on your hips as you set your pace.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

“There ya go, slow— Oohh— Steady there love.” He breathed out with a slight chuckle, hands finding purchase right on your hips occasionally rubbing down your thighs. “Fuck— Doesn’t matter how many times I ride you I still can’t get over the stretch.” you laughed out as you slowly sank down with his help as he breathed all kinds of praises with that smile on his face.

Eventually you were buried to the hilt deep within him, your velvet heat clutching him, “God knew you could do it— Never fail to impress darling.” Price chuckled before you redirected his hand from your hips to your stomach the slight bulge in your lower catching him off guard, the groan that emitted from his throat was down right dirty. “God damn you know just how to rile me up, I suggest you hold on huh?” He chuckled deeply.

Ghost:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 7 flaccid, 8.5 hard, he is big but he’s not BIG, you feel me? He’s got that good even, and you best believe he knows how to use it. I mean hello?? Look at him? Anyways I stand by it, 7 flaccid, 8.5 hard.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: He’s a buff lad because we’re taking mw2/3 ghost with those man tits and big ass arms, he’s definitely thick, split you open thick in a sense.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: With his mask and such I would like to say he’s pale so his dick might be slightly pale as well his tip color though would be slightly darker like, #FAC3B3 & #D69786.

+

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: See I like to believe his hair is shorttt beneath his mask so he would also keep it kinda clipped and short not exactly long or like out there, he’d had it pretty maintained like a little scruff maybe.

⋆₊��⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: Two words, God yes. Curved up just slightly with veins on the underside and one on the front side.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He seems like the rough types and if he’s busy but needs you so and he’ll face fuck you while your head under his desk.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

His grip was tight on your hair as you allowed him to move your head back and fourth as you braced your hands on his thighs. The obscenely wet sounds of your spit & precum shined lips gliding and wrapped around his cock.

“Look at you— *fuck* — such a mess around my cock huh? Little fuckin’ cocksleeve practically.” Ghost chuckled deeply in his chest as he lowered your mouth fully down onto his length causing a little gag from you as you gripped his thighs and he relished in this groaning at the sight and sound of you gagging around him as more drool spilled from your lips.

Gaz:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 6 flaccid but 7.5 erect, he’s got that good even ground not split you open or good lord how is it gonna fit big but enough that he makes you feel that full feeling you can’t get enough of.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: I don’t have a specific like width length in terms of measurements but I’d like to say he’s a good neutral, gives you that good feeling when fucking you.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: #C98767 & #AB6F4F , it’s got a little fade to the mushroom tip, the tip just being a bit darker towards the end.

+

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: He’s groomed, his hair is short like short so I’d think he’d keep it pretty much tamed with a little curl to it.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: OOOO, yeah he got veins, more like one up from the bottoms and one on the top that goes into a fork. He’s just a litttleee curved.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: I feel like he likes to take you from the back, he’s a bit of an ass man, maybe some tummy and thighs honestly.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

“God..” Gaz huffed out as his grip on your hips tightened, his gaze trailing down to your ass and the way it bounced everywhere time he thrusted in and out of your velvet heat. He couldn’t help but land a smack to it earning a, ‘Oh!’ From you and a groan from him. “You like that huh? Go on and tell me.” Gaz managed out punctuating the words with thrusts.

Soap:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 7 flaccid, maybe 7.5 ish not too big not too small, just the right ish amount for most. Because let’s be honest Soap isn’t big or small, right smack dab in the middle.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: I wanna say, he’s a bit girthy though, not twig thin but maybe the same width of a banana which is usually 1.5 to 2 inches, so take that how you will.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: I feel he’s pale around the base and a little darker to the tip, I don’t have exact set colors for soap because I can’t pin point exactly what colors but think pale to tanner.

+

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: I feel like, just by looking at his Mohawk and facial hair look it’s like messy but it’s not overly dramatic or grown out but it isn’t quite buzzed either so like a tamed bush in a sense.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: CURVED AND VEINS, he’s got a vein on the under side curved to the tip and over to the top side slightly, as for curved it curves to the left just slightly and up a teeny bit.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He’s a thigh & tit guy in my opinion, so, I feel he looovess thigh fucking.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

You HAD been finishing up cleaning the dishes in your favorite PJ’s right before bed until your boyfriend came meandering out…then you found yourself on the bed, on your back, panting softly as you looked at where his cock tip poked out from between your thighs that just couldn’t keep his hands off.

“So..Fucking…Good.” Soap punctuated his words with deep thrusts, pearls of precums catching on your thighs as he thrusted.

[voraciouspangolin]

Thread of my second read through The Days Have Worn Away

his stupid smile . I want to put him through a food processor

ok one of them came out wearing an eyepatch i think soldier got cheated on and zhanna had a kid with demo

he proposed with a grenade. and. and he pulled the pin and put the ring on zhanna's finger. and threw the grendade

tbh I fear for the person who becomes the centre of her devotion next

she is willing and ready to use her powers for evil

new sniper lore dropped too. He can fly bush planes

hes so real for this

i think these are the team classic characters... There's a plaque missing on the stone statue at the bottom, I wonder what was on it.

I like how everyone at… Administrator HQ is wearing purple

So earlier we got miss pauling's first name initial, f. Pauling.... so this is a confirmation that her name starts with F, and she's on first name basis with engie. Flo- like, Florence? Florida?

This might be a stretch but I think that these paintings on the wall, I think they're like, the BEST of the best mercernaries of their respective class. Pyro is looking at a hard to make out person surrounded by flames, and demo is looking at a high tech looking demoman

look at all these stupid idiots. i love them

she's SO done dude. SO DONE

also this whole thing. Love the detail that spy is checking his watch pompously . and how everyone else is lined up waiting for them to continue walkign

And this one... god, that smile she gives scout. The way scout beams

The art in this comic has improved so so much, its absolutely gorgeous. The way its layed out, the emotion it conveys without needing dialogue.... magnificent. I like how Miss P's undone hair shows itself as more messy. She's at her wits end- she's past the point of anxiety, past the point of tightening and adjusting her hair so that no strand sticks out.

I think this is the most creature like I've seen pyro and I'm so here for it. E's got eyebrows over the mask lol. Also medic's stupid ass tippy toeing to see over heavy

I love the placement of this context we're getting for how Helen became involved with the Manns. It immediately makes you think to the place where The Naked and The Dead ended, with Helen fully perked up on the final bits of australium she had. Yet its a look into the past

big fan of this painting. Three rifles... and these book titles. So silly i love it

New competitor for Most eyebrows, Zepheniah has two eyebrow spikes, beating medics mere one spike

A whole graveyard of Manns.... I like the one thats just a giant M. Really hammering in the notion that the Mann last name is an identity of immense value, that takes over your whole life. oh, and that panel before the final one, its so full of tension... so good

And here's the actual moment we get to see her in all her insanity. What a woman. I like that the screens all face him, constantly displaying the products of redmond's and blutarch's failure to follow the family line of succession. His eyelids constantly forcefully open, unable to speak, yet his brain still processes the information his body is percieving. He's like if Mr House (fonv) had a dominatrix

me too, scout. me too

big fan of how heavy's eyes are the only ones that are dots

her and miss pauling both, they share the Devotion, the ability to pour their entire beings and lives into one single thing

I bet that thing felt like jerky. who said that

Absolute cinema. Amazing. Magnificent. Wonderful. No notes

[spnbabe67]

She Wants Me At The Party, She Wants Me At The Mall, She Wants Me In A Bathroom Stall

Kinktober Day 9: Public Sex (J. S.)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, Semi public sex, cum tasting

Summary: Jake can't stay away, and who is Tatum to tell him no?

Word Count: 1119

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Dirty Mind by 3OH!3

Tatum loved to run. She’d gone out for cross country in high school, even getting a couple scholarships for the times she ran. It’d come in handy when she’d applied for the Navy, outpacing the girls in her class. It was an escape, a way to silence the overthinking and the little voice in the back of her head telling her she didn’t deserve to be here among the top Naval aviators. It was quiet, or as quiet as late nights on a naval base could get. Most were asleep so she was relatively unbothered on her run, and she felt safe enough to run with both of her headphones in. Something about the rhythmic pace of her feet pounding the pavement, the burn in her chest as she pushed herself to run just a little further eases that wild feeling in her soul

On her second lap around the base, Tatum dipped into one of the smaller hangars, conceding to the stitch in her side. She gulped down heady breaths, checking the heart rate monitor built into her watch. Through the lowly playing music in her headphones, she detected someone approaching her from her peripheral. She looked up, a greeting on her tongue to find Jake sauntering up to her. 

“Are you stalking me now, Seresin?” Tatum removed her earbuds, pulling her leg up behind her in a stretch. 

“No,” Jake rolled his eyes. “But I was looking for you.”

Tatum hummed, releasing her leg and stretched the other. “And why’s that?”

“Cause.” Jake reached up, cupping the side of her face and Tatum let herself lean into his touch, setting both feet back on the ground. “Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

Maverick had been pushing them pretty hard lately. Nothing Tatum wasn’t used to, but it left little time for anything outside training and running drills. This wasn’t even considering the fact that as far as the rest of the pilots knew, she and Jake still hated each others guts. To be fair, Tatum still wasn’t Jake’s biggest fan sometimes. He could be cocky and inconsiderate, but she didn’t think she ever truly hated him. Dislike? Sure Loathe? Definitely. But hate? That was going a bit far.

“Whatsa matter? Your hand not cutting it tonight?”

Tatum watched as Jake tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as his thumb brushed along her lower lip. She sucked the pad of his finger into her mouth, running her tongue over the ridges and whorls.

“God you’re so hot.” Jake groaned, pulling his thumb from her mouth, dragging it down her lip. He dipped his head down, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss.

Tatum hummed against his mouth, putting a hand on his chest, pushing him away. “Nuh, uh. Not here. Besides, I’m sweaty and gross.”

Jake gently removed her hand from his chest, putting it back on his shoulder. “And you think I care why? About either.” He leaned back in, pressing a kiss to her neck, pulling aside the strap of her sports bra. “Everyone is either asleep or in their rooms.”

Jake guided her back against one of the tables with a hand on her waist as he recaptured her lips sloppily. Tatum wrapped her legs around his waist as he hoisted her onto the table surface, letting his tongue sweep across the roof of her mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair, her other hand dipping under the waistband of Jake’s basketball shorts. Jake sucked in a breath through his teeth as Tatum wrapped her hand around the shaft of his cock, sloppily kissing him as she slowly pumped him to full attention. At the same time Jake pulled her shorts down her legs, dropping them off to the side. Tatum wrapped her legs back around his waist, digging her heels into his ass, pushing his shorts down enough to free his cock from the confinements of his boxers. 

Tatum dug her nails into Jake’s shoulders as his cock slid between her fold, slicking up his shaft until the head of him caught on her entrance, sliding into her. 

“Fuck, you’re always so tight for me.” Jake mumbled against her shoulder, nipping and kissing as he slowly worked his cock into her one short thrust at a time. 

“Shut up and kiss me, Seresin.” Tatum pulled Jake’s mouth back to hers, her hand exploring the expanse of his sides and back under the t-shirt he was wearing. “Gotta make this quick.”

Jake sped up his thrusts, gripping her thighs like handles as he pounded into her. Fuck, he always feels so good inside me. Tatum buried her face in the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin as the upwards curve of his cock brushed against that sensitive spot inside her. She grabbed one of his hands, guiding it between their bodies to her clit that was throbbing for attention. Once he took the hint it, each time he tweaked her nub waves of arousal spread across her body outwards from her clit. She moaned his name into his neck, gripping his waist with her thighs trying to steady the trembling in her legs as her orgasm started to build, all of her muscles tensing. 

“I know baby, Cum for me.” Tatum bit down on Jake’s shoulder as her orgasm roared over her in waves, her legs wrapped around Jake’s body in a near vice grip. 

Jake grunted his thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven his own orgasm on the edge. Tatum brought Jake’s mouth back down to hers, fingers tugging on his hair with just enough pressure she knew he liked. With a strangled moan he came in short spurts inside her. As he pulled out, his cum dripped down her thigh in milky streaks. Tatum moaned raggedly as Jake slid his fingers up her slit, collecting his spend, bringing them up to her lips. She opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out as he pressed his fingers to her tongue. She could taste his cum mixed with her arousal as she closed her lips around his fingers, sucking them clean. 

“Good girl.” Jake smirked, kissing her one last time for good measure as he tucked himself away, grabbing her shorts from the floor and sliding them back up her legs.

Tatum hopped off the table, pulling her shorts back on, now sweaty for a whole other reason. She pulled him back in by his shirt, kissing him hard. She tugged on his lower lip as she pulled away, watching his eyes follow her as she put her headphones back on.

“Will I see you later?” He called after her.

“In your dreams!” Tatum laughed as she continued on her run

“Probably!”

[dancy-nrew]

Happy Secret Samol @humanmorph !!! Yo ho ho a pirates life for you!

Id in alt text and also below the cut for legibility

Image one: An Alise Breka book cover. The illustration (meant to resemble an oil painting) features Leap and Figure A back to back, Figure A closer to the camera and Leap behind them. Leap is in a tie dye hoodie, Figure A has a dramatic collar welded to their round torso. Each are holding a sword and fending off attacks on all sides. Laser beams zip across the screen. The title of the book is “High Seas and Distant Stars” and is written on a yellow band across the top of the page. There is a simplified drawing of palisade as a logo for Palisade Publishing. There is a barcode across the bottom left.

Image two and three: Mockup of the inside of the book. Text reads:

The pirate captain, devastatingly handsome — or devastating and handsome, if you put the question to the unlucky sailors across many planet’s seas — lounged about the deck of the ship. A foul wind had blown through the port in the night, and showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. Disadvantageous, and perhaps more terribly, incredibly dull. Exeter Leap had faced down gods and kings and only laughed in their faces; to be trapped here by a measly turn in the weather made his plating itch.

They’d been here a week already, despite no small effort to leave. Unloading, his first mate insisted, takes time if they want it done properly. Leap had insisted he’d never done anything properly in his life and didn’t plan on starting now, but Figure A had tilted their head in that way they had and explained that properly meant more money, which, he supposed, was hard to argue with. Especially considering their other delay. The Bluebird had taken substantial cannon fire in their last battle, and was desperately in need of repairs, as well as the more tedious maintenance work that went into keeping a ship of its size and purpose in fit fighting shape.

So the minutes ticked into hours ticked into days, and here they are, still.

“I’m not a man meant to stay still,” he complains, staring out over the roiling waves.

”Still: up to and including the present or the time mentioned, or still: not moving or making a sound?”

Leap jumps, but only slightly. A pirate can never be too surprised, but he hadn’t realized he had company, lost in thoughts as turbulent as the sea. The familiar red and gold form of his friend leaning next to him is a welcome sight. “Oh- Uh. Both. Either. Not still here, or still physically.”

Figure A nods in easy understanding. They’re better at patience, at being in one place, but Leap thinks they have something restless about them, too. They lean forward as if they have something more to say but then-! A shout! The familiar blistering heat of a laser beam sipping past inches from his face! A scorch mark across metal! Leaps springs into action as

FREE READING PREVIEW LIMIT REACHED

FULL BOOK DOWNLOAD: 45 GLINT

INSTALLMENT PAYMENTS AVAILABLE !

WHOLE BOOK IN 4 ACTS, EASY PAYMENTS OF 15 GLINT EACH!

EXTRAS AND BEHIND THE SCENES CONTENT (AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CAPTAIN HIMSELF!) 25 GLINT!

Image four: A series of sketches of Leap and Figure A.

First sketch; Leap has his arms crossed saying “Thats not how any of that happened!” as he looks over Figure A’s shoulder as they read the book. They laugh and say “I think it’s fun!

Second sketch; Figure A points at the cover and says “Look at my cool collar” as Leap leans forward to look at it and says “it is pretty sick…”

Third sketch: Leap welding a big metal pirate coat-like collar onto Figure A’s torso as they giggle

Fourth Sketch; Leap grins and asks “How’s that?” Figure A says “Thank yo-“ but bonks their face into the collar as they turn their head

Fifth sketch; very small at the bottom of the page. Leap has a hand over his mouth. Figure A’s head slumps forward as they sigh.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title : four bottles and a maybe kiss

pairing: Jameson Hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis : you are at a bar with the Hawthorne brothers who you’ve grown up friends with. But being with Jameson Hawthorne has always been a little different than the others, it’s always felt like there is something more…

warnings : drinking and alcohol

a/n : this is my first ever time writing in this platform so idk if this is too long or really rubbish, I just hope you enjoy and I’m always open to feedback

tag list : there is no tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

The music was so loud I could feel each beat in my chest. The pounding of the song was beginning to match the pounding in my head. I could feel my limbs beginning to ache. I needed to get out of hot, sticky, sweatiness of this place. I knew I wasn’t even the slightest bit tipsy, I’d only had one drink and I’m glad, it was easy to get lost in this place. Eventually I find the door to exit. The cold air laps my exposed skin, drinking up the humidity greedily and I’ve never been more grateful. I tip my head back, shutting my eyes and take a deep breath in. I allow the oxygen to fill my lungs and feel a little calmer, a little less achy. I exhale, thankful for the cool breeze of the night. But it’s not longer before my kind begins to wander as it often does when the rest of the world is silent and it always directs me back to the same train of thought. Jameson Hawthorne.

I’d grown up by his side and him by mine. We had always gotten on, always been like minded people with a high aptitude for various subjects. Tobias had always had a liking for me, approving of one of the family’s few outside connections. I’d always been close to all the Hawthorne brothers but Jameson… Jameson was so different. It never felt like just a friendship, the bond was too strong, too emotional for just that. His familiar smirk often laced my dreams and his bright eyes constantly plagued my imagination. Things like that don’t just happen. From the day we met and every day after, there has been a spark. I can feel the electricity pulsing through my veins when I’m around him and I don’t know if he can feel it too. So I say nothing and of course he says nothing and so we live on. Me, imagining the impossible and Jameson… being Jameson.

Suddenly, reeling me out of my thoughts quite literally, my body jerks forward as I feel something hit my back with force. I slam into the pavement, the impact hard, but break my fall with my hands.

“Oh shit shit shit, I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice says.

My head whips around and my eyes widen, “Jameson?”

‘Huh just the person I was thinking about…’ I think, ‘Fate? Nah.’

I look up. There he is, standing there. He’s just fallen out of the door of a bar but somehow still looks like some sort of Greek god. His face so perfect it’s unfair, eyes so bright it gives the sun a run for her money, a smile so alluring that I’d sell both my kidneys just to see it once.

“Oh hey there Y/N!” he grins as I stand up wiping my hands on the bottom of my dress, “didn’t see you there.”

“You don’t say,” I reply, analysing him. His face was red and rosy, his eyelids drooping slightly and I could see the sweat dripping off of his forehead.

“What?” he asks, cocking his head to one side

“You’re drunk,” I state.

“Nooooo,” he slurs, grinning as he stumbles towards me. He’s about to fall over before I act fast and catch him. I underestimated his weight and falter slightly but managed to pull him back as he’s wheezing with laughter.

“What’s so funny Jamie?” I ask, not bothering to suppress my smile.

“I fell over,” he laughs, “and this is the second time now!”

I sigh, “How many drinks have you had?”

“Four…” he says, hesitating a little while, “…bottles.”

“Jameson!” I exclaim.

“Y/n!” he yells, mocking my shocked tone.

“Four whole bottles!”

“Nash had double,” he defends, putting his hands up. His hair, as unruly as ever, look particularly good tonight. I don’t know what he’s done with it but it made him look so beautiful.

“Is that why he’s cowboy dancing?” I ask, recalling the routine if previously witnessed, that will be engraved into my brain for the rest of my life.

“And screaming Taylor Swift,” Jameson tells me, “I believe when I left it was ‘picture to burn’ but by now it could be anything.”

“Damn I missed that,” I say.

“Gray probably got it on video,” he shrugs, tapping one hand on his leg in a rhythm, like he often does when he’s nervous or distracted or just needs to burn some energy.

“Where’s Xander?” I ask him.

“I don’t knowww,” Jameson slurs, his eyes darting from my eyes to my lips and back again, “but I know where you are!”

I smile softly, folding my arms and leaning on the wall behind me, “and where am I?”

His eyelids fall down and then pry open slowly before he slumps down against the wall, hitting the concrete with a thump. That’s going to be a painful bruise tomorrow.

“You are here, with me,” he laughs, “and I’m really happy you’re here with me.”

“You are?” I ask, my eyebrows flying up, caught off guard at the comment

“Yep, can I tell you a secret?” he asks me, his green eyes sparkling as my stares up at me, clinging to my forearm.

“What’s your secret?” I whisper.

“You have to come down here to hear it,” Jameson giggles, tugging twice on my arm. I oblige and sit down next to him, my back against the wall. He takes my face between his hands and I’m taken by surprise. He’s so gentle and soft. My brain is telling me to pull away but our eyes connect and my brain doesn’t seem to work much after that. I’m staring into pools of lush green emeralds, hypnotising me from any logic I may have had. All I can hear is my heart is thumping loudly in my ears.

“What’s your secret?” I whisper, our faces inches apart, almost touching but not quite there.

“You are my favourite person,” he murmurs, “ever!”

His hands no longer cup my face and instead the tip of his finger is booping my nose. I scrunch up my face and try not to laughs. This was probably the most drunk if ever seen Jameson.

“Really?” I ask him.

“Yep,” he nods.

I can’t believe what he’s saying. I can’t let myself, it would be too cruel. He’s drunk. So very drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He won’t remember a word of it and he probably doesn’t mean it. But he possibly does. Hope blossoms in my chest and it feels so much better than the doubt. My heart is still racing, my cheeks from heating up. Thank god he won’t remember.

“Well that’s nice to know,” I say, “you want to know my secret?”

“Yeah!” he says, like an excitable puppy, practically jumping up and down in anticipation. It’s adorable. But I can’t afford to think that.

“You’re my favourite person as well,” I tell him quietly.

“Really?” he makes her, tipping his head to the side.

“Yuh-huh,” I say.

“That made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” he muses, “like a kitten.”

I can’t help myself as I let out a giggle. Drunk Jameson is completely random, spouting absolute nonsense but I love it. I love him. But I can’t love him because he’s just a friend. My smile fades slowly and I sigh silently staring up at the stars in the night sky. Maybe in another life, some other universe we’re written in the stars but in this one… no.

“Don’t stop,” Jameson says suddenly.

I stare at him, confusion painted across my features, “Don’t stop what?”

“Smiling,” he replies, “you’re so pretty when you smile…I mean you’re pretty anyway,” he rambled on, “but that smile…” he sighs as he trails off.

“You’re definitely drunk,” I scoff, getting to my feet.

He quickly scrambles up after me, grabbing my arms so I’m staring right at him, “this is the most sober I’ve felt all night.”

“After four bottles?” I chuckle, “yeah right.”

“Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are,” he asks suddenly.

“What?” I ask, getting whiplash from the turn of conversation.

“Your eyes…” he murmurs, his finger grazing my jawline.

“Jameson stop this,” I say, pushing him away despite wanting nothing more than his fingers on my skin, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

I can’t afford to have my heart broken again. I can’t take it. I won’t let myself fall. I replay those sentences in my head over and over, sounding like a mad woman but not caring for a second because I’m too stubborn to let myself go through the pain again.

“I think I do,” he replies, “I could talk about you for hours.”

I have to keep reminding myself he’s drunk. No matter how hard I want to believe that this is real, I know better than to be fooled. Things like this only happen in fiction, not in the real world. Never lose your heart to a Hawthorne, the words are etched into my brain and yet somehow I’m managing to ignore their overbearing call.

“That’s very sweet but you should probably go home and get some rest,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to take responsibility, wishing I was more reckless and selfish so that I’d just take this as my opportunity. But I’m not like that.

“Come with me,” Jameson shouts, a clear desperation in his voice, despite the fact that I wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t plan to. He grabs my hand and pulls me closer to him.

I shake my head, “no Jamie, not today.”

“But I’ll miss you,” he pouts, his hands travelling down my body and stopping at my waist, “and then I’ll get sad.”

I bite back the shiver that is begging to run through me. We’re so close. Butterflies dance around in my stomach, almost as chaotically as Nash when he does his cowboy routine to Taylor Swift. My rational mind is telling me to break free from his grasp but I feel so nice, it feels too natural that I stay.

“You’ll manage,” I tell him quietly.

“I don’t think I will,” he says. I can feel his thumb rubbing circles on the small of my back, “when I’m without you I’m so…” he struggling to find the right word, “down. Nash keeps telling me I should just tell you how I feel but what does he want me to do? Tell you that when you’re not around everything that’s meant to be colourful looks grey or that I spend most of my time thinking about the way your hair curls in the rain or the way I’ve noticed that you bite the inside of your cheek when you’re nervous. Or the dreams I’ve had about you dancing in my arms, your voice calling me yours and the sunset beaches we lay on whole we talk about everything.”

“Jameson…” I whisper, reaching out and touching his cheek tentatively.

“I love you Y/N L/N,” Jameson tells me, looking me dead in the eyes.

“You’ve had a lot to drink,” I reply sharply, shaking myself from his gasp. I’m suddenly cold without his warm hands situated on my waist, but I refuse to shiver.

“No! Listen to me! It’s always been you, I truly think it has been,” he says, so convincingly I almost believe him, “from the day we first met there’s always been something there. I felt it and I know you did too,” his voice, so determined, so passionate, “there was no way you couldn’t have. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to tell you all of this but it’s only taken me this long to express it because I’m too much of a coward to try when I’m sober,” he admits, honesty in his shining green eyes, “but I know what I’m saying, I know what I’m doing and I’m so crazy on this high of love that I don’t think the alcohol is even working anymore.”

“I want to believe you, really Jamie, I do,” I murmur, “you don’t know how badly I want this but…” I trail off, unable to finish what my brain wants me to say, getting distracted by the way he’s looking at me.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks me softly, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips.

“Jameson-“

“Your lips look so beautiful,” he says, “Can I kiss you?”

a/n: find more like this on my TIG Masterlist