#halfway through the movie. so worth the wait

[lightbluetown]

FINALLY watching riftf!! loving casper isn't enough, i need to tenderly place him inside my mouth and chew him like he's bubblegum

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

part one

“so how was your first day?” robin asks steve as he slides onto the barstool next to her and chrissy.

“it actually wasn’t that bad,” steve shrugs before taking a long pull from the freshly opened bottle the bartender slides his way.

“it wasn’t that bad?” chrissy asks, incredulous. “so he didn’t make you go to the erewhon all the way across town? the one he goes to because selena gomez was seen there once?”

“that’s why he made me go there?”

“yeah, he really likes that one movie she’s in.”

steve thinks for a moment. “the dead don’t die?”

“no, the one with the dancing,” chrissy snorts.

steve makes a face and then shrugs again. “i made him his breakfast, i drove him around, i organized his tshirt closet… pretty standard stuff for an assistant.”

“you organized his tshirt closet? what the fuck does that even mean?” robin asks, laughing.

“exactly what it sounds like,” steve grins at her. “anyway, really, it wasn’t that bad. sure, he’s insufferable but not anything i couldn’t handle. don’t worry about it.”

“well, thanks for doing this,” chrissy says. “vickie handled it for a while, but i guess once you’ve been fired twelve times in the course of six months, you have to draw a boundary with the thirteenth.”

“it’s really not a big deal, it’s not like i’m doing it for free,” steve responds. “the money is more than worth it.”

“still, i know how he can be. but he’s really not so bad. once he’s… comfortable.” chrissy frowns.

“whatever,” steve shrugs for a third time. “i’m just here for the cash.” he winks and gives her a reassuring smile.

~*~

the next morning, steve pulls up to eddie’s huge beverly hills mansion bright and early, just as he had yesterday. he punches in the gate code, waves to the security guy on duty, and makes his way inside to the kitchen.

eddie storms in while steve is halfway through cooking another omelette, this time with tomatoes and onions and freshly grated cheddar cheese.

“i don’t care, wheeler, i’m not making a fucking appearance and i’m definitely not doing it with him,” eddie snarls into the phone pressed to his face. he hasn’t seemed to notice that steve’s in his house again.

eddie waits for whoever it is on the phone to speak before he says, “well maybe i don’t want to fix it. maybe this is it,” and then hangs up the phone. he lets out a frustrated little scream before he turns to leave the kitchen, finally noticing steve by the stove. “you’re back,” he says, voice monotone.

“i’m back,” steve smiles, sliding the plate full of food across the large island toward him. eddie looks down at it like he’s surprised. “eat,” steve tells him.

“another sweater vest?” eddie sneers instead of picking up his fork.

“i like them,” steve shrugs, still smiling.

eddie rolls his eyes. “whatever,” he mutters and then picks up the plate and retreats from the kitchen.

~*~

eddie is deeply annoyed by how good steve’s omelettes are. he practically licks the plate clean when he’s finished, which only serves to make his bad mood worse.

“can i take your plate?” steve asks from the doorway of the living room.

“jesus christ, man, wear a fucking bell,” eddie grumbles before holding out the plate, forcing steve to walk across the room to the couch and take it from him.

“i’ll remember to announce myself from now on,” steve replies. “chrissy just called; you have another meeting with the pr team this afternoon. we’ll leave here in about an hour.”

eddie doesn’t respond and steve goes quietly back to the kitchen.

~*~

eddie tries to confuse steve with the directions to nancy’s office again, mostly just to annoy him since the car has a built in gps. steve ignores eddie, leaving him to play on his phone in the back seat. the windows are tinted dark, just how eddie likes it & it lulls him into a false sense of security to where he’s almost relaxed by the time they get to nancy’s office.

the meeting is a fucking drag. it’s just a rehashing of the morning’s phone call and eddie had already made himself perfectly clear. he’s not willing to fix anything. nancy and chrissy try to double-team him, begging him to think about the tour & the album roll-out & the rest of the band. the entertainment blogs are running wild with the rumors circulating about the other night and now they’re digging up shit that he wishes would stay buried.

“absolutely fucking not,” eddie spits out. “i refuse to be fucking cordial with that moron.”

“fine,” nancy says finally. “i guess we’re done here then.” she gets up from the head of the conference room table and leaves through the big glass doors and the rest of her team takes that as their cue to leave, too.

chrissy levels him with a look, waiting until the last intern has left the room before speaking.

“eddie, i know you’re pissed right now. trust me, i would be too,” she says, using that tone eddie always hates—the one that makes it sound like she’s trying to placate a rabid dog. “but the label has invested a lot of money into you and they need you to put in some work right now. take a minute, take a breath, and then we’ll talk again. but we need to respond; we can figure out what that looks like. i’ll talk to nance… maybe we don’t need a joint appearance. maybe you can just make a statement.”

eddie knows there are a ton of people relying on this tour & this upcoming album. he knows the band doesn’t deserve the hit from this. but what is there to even say? he’s just so fucking angry about it.

“fine. i’ll make an appearance. but i won’t, under any circumstances, be seen with him,” eddie tells her firmly. he slides his sunglasses back onto his face before pushing himself out of his chair and making his way over to the door. “just tell me when and where. and make sure nancy doesn’t make me sound like a fucking idiot.”

“great,” chrissy smiles so bright she looks like a teenager again. “i’ll talk to nancy. we’ll figure it out.”

any reassurance eddie feels is washed away by a renewed sense of annoyance when he sees steve waiting for him in the lobby, still wearing his pastel yellow sweater vest, drinking a purple smoothie from a straw and scrolling on his phone. he’s laughing at something on the screen and the sunlight comes through the huge front windows just right, making him glow golden, and eddie just feels something inside him twist unpleasantly.

steve looks up then to see eddie coming, but eddie breezes past him to the sidewalk. steve jumps up to follow, handing the valet their ticket. when the car finally pulls up, eddie says, “no liquids in the car,” before sliding into the back seat.

he sees steve shrug before smiling at the valet and handing him his half empty smoothie to dispose of and a tip.

the car ride home is silent. eddie practically leaps from the car before it’s even come to a stop when they pull into the driveway. there are packages on the table in the foyer, likely brought in by the security guy at the gate. “grab those,” eddie tells steve with a wave of his hand.

steve follows eddie into the kitchen, arms laden with paper bags and boxes. most of it, eddie knows, is free product and merch, stuff he never uses and mostly stuff he doesn’t even want. steve places the packages on the counter and watches as eddie sifts through them, clearly looking for something.

“do you want lunch?” steve asks. eddie ignores him, finally finding the package he’d ordered earlier today. he flings it across the kitchen island toward steve on the other side.

steve catches the package in his hands and arches an eyebrow.

“open it,” eddie tells him, nodding at paper wrapping. he opens the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and takes a long sip as he watches steve’s fingers tear at the brown paper.

once the package is open, steve huffs out a laugh, barely a breath, before holding up a bright pink cat collar with a tiny bell attached. he shakes it in the air, making the bell tinkle. the collar clearly will not fit him.

“fuck you, man,” steve says, still smiling.

“fuck you, too,” eddie says.

and then he leaves the kitchen.

part three

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[satellite-evans]

told you so

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: it's your turn to take care of lando <3

Word count: 1.2k+

Warnings: fluff, lando is sick

A/N:

this is a part 2 for lovesick, but can be read individually, happy reading xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It started three days after you started feeling better.

You’d just gotten over the flu—a brutal week of hacking coughs, relentless fevers, and being completely wiped out while Lando stepped into full-time caretaker mode. He’d fluffed your pillows, ordered weirdly specific soup combinations (chicken noodle with a side of toast and a single gherkin, why?), and insisted on playing your favorite comfort movies even when he dozed off halfway through them.

Every day, without fail, in between sneezes and sips of hot tea, you’d warned him like a broken record: “Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick. Seriously, Lando. I’m a walking biohazard.” And every day, like clockwork, he’d give you that crooked smile that made your heart do stupid things and lean down anyway, pressing a kiss to your lips like he was immune to common sense.

“Worth it,” he’d say, all cocky and smug, even as you scowled at him.

Now, three days after your fever broke and you were finally starting to feel like a functioning human again, Lando was sprawled across the couch like a Victorian widow in mourning. A pile of blankets engulfed him like a nest, only the top of his curls and the tip of his red nose visible.

“Baaaabe,” he croaked, voice hoarse and pathetic, as if he'd swallowed gravel and regret. “I think this is it. Tell McLaren I love them. Tell Oscar to win for me.”

You leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and unimpressed. “You have the flu. The same flu I had. The one I explicitly told you not to kiss me during.”

Lando peeked out from under the blanket fort with glassy, betrayed eyes. “You kissed me back! That makes it a mutual decision! This was a joint operation.”

You let out a long sigh and walked over, pressing the back of your hand gently to his forehead. Sure enough, it was burning up.

“Yeah, well. Congratulations, genius. You’ve got a fever.”

“I knew it,” he groaned, flopping dramatically like his soul was leaving his body. “My organs are shutting down. I can feel it. This is the end. Cold, miserable, and betrayed… by the love of my life.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as you shook your head. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I need soup,” he sniffled pitifully, burrowing deeper into the mound of fleece and flannel. “And cuddles. And maybe a foot massage. And definitely another blanket. Possibly two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Anything else, Your Majesty?”

“An eulogy,” he replied weakly. “Something tasteful. Maybe mention that I was brave and beautiful, taken too soon…”

You turned on your heel, heading toward the kitchen with an eye roll so powerful it could’ve shifted tectonic plates. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Norris.”

His voice trailed after you, small and pathetic. “I’m dying! Is this how you treat your dying boyfriend? Where’s the Florence Nightingale energy?”

“Florence didn’t have to deal with whiny F1 drivers,” you called back. “Count yourself lucky I’m making you soup and not letting you waste away on the pit lane.”

“Wait, do we have ginger tea? I read online that’s good for the immune system. And maybe some honey? Or lemon? Or both? And a warm compress for my eyes, I think I saw one on TikTok—”

“Oh my God, Lando.”

“—and maybe like... one of those heated plushies. You know the ones? That look like cats but smell like lavender?”

You grabbed the kettle and let it boil as his voice carried on from the living room, dramatic and ever-demanding, while you secretly smiled to yourself. He was miserable, yes—but so were you, just a few days ago. And just like he’d cared for you, now it was your turn to return the favor.

With soup, cuddles, and maybe, just maybe, one of those lavender-scented cat plushies.

Ten minutes later, you returned with a tray balanced carefully in your hands—a steaming bowl of homemade soup (the good kind, not the sad instant packet), a cold compress folded just right, and a bottle of flu medicine with the dosage already measured out. You’d even grabbed a spoon that didn’t clank annoyingly against the bowl, because yes, you were that considerate. The tray clinked softly as you set it on the coffee table, the smell of garlic and herbs immediately cutting through the stuffy air of the living room.

Lando stirred beneath his fortress of blankets, blinking up at you like a very sad, very sick kitten.

Without a word, you began rearranging the pillows behind him—fluffing one, stacking another for support, gently nudging him upright with a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit up. Time to eat.”

He sniffled pitifully and looked at you with the most dramatic pout you’d seen all week. “Will you feed me? I’m too weak. My arms don’t work anymore. I think they’ve stopped functioning.”

You gave him a flat look that screamed seriously?, but the sight of his flushed cheeks, red nose, and those glassy, pleading eyes—ugh. Damn him and his boyish charm.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh, picking up the spoon. “But if you fake gag for sympathy, I’m pouring this soup right on your hoodie.”

“You wound me,” he gasped, clutching his chest like a scandalized Victorian noble. “My Florence Nightingale turned cold-hearted nurse. Where is the compassion?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop, gently blowing on each spoonful before guiding it to his lips. He opened his mouth obediently, chewing slowly, and making these over-exaggerated “mmm” sounds like he was in a food commercial.

You let him have his moment.

Every now and then, your fingers would drift to his curls, brushing them back from his sweaty forehead, or you’d adjust the blanket when it started to slip from his shoulder. And each time, he leaned into your touch like it was the only thing grounding him. Dramatic as he was, you knew the truth—he just wanted to be taken care of the same way he had taken care of you. With quiet patience, and a lot of love.

And honestly? You didn’t mind at all. Even if he had brought this on himself.

After the soup and a reluctant but necessary dose of flu meds, Lando let out a long, theatrical sigh like he’d just completed a marathon. He sank back into the couch, curling up with his head in your lap, one arm loosely around your waist as if anchoring himself there. He sniffled again, softer this time, like a puppy trying not to be too obvious about how much it needed cuddles.

You smiled, running your fingers gently through his messy curls, letting the silence stretch between you for a moment before speaking.

“Next time,” you murmured, voice low and warm, “you’re actually going to listen when I say no kissing the plague-ridden girlfriend.”

Lando didn’t open his eyes, just smiled faintly against your thigh. “Next time… I’m still gonna kiss you.”

You sighed, part exasperation, part affection. “You’re impossible.”

“Worth it,” he breathed, already drifting into sleep.

You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, lingering there for a second longer than you meant to. “Idiot,” you whispered.

He didn’t reply. His breathing had already evened out, the medicine kicking in, the warmth of your lap and the quiet room lulling him into sleep. But even in rest, the corners of his mouth were still tilted up in the faintest smile.

You shook your head and smiled, adjusting the blanket over him once more.

Yeah. He was definitely worth it.

[natsredbra]

Velvet & vice

summary: You meet a girl at work. A bit more unconventional than most expect.

warnings: stripper!reader, customer!L, smut at the end, strip clubs obv, strap referred to as cock, alcohol (very benign)

a/n: big things are coming…..i actually loved this idea sm and i wasn’t sure if the person that sent it wanted a whole ass fic but i couldn’t resist the temptation guys. i hope you enjoy this cause there will definitely be a pt2

word count: 3-3.3k

part 2

The night was hazy as usual, a steaming dressing room in the backstage with a bunch of dancers getting ready. You yourself stared into a mirror as you applied glitter to your eyelid, a thousand thoughts running through your head. You were fairly new to all this, at least comparing to some of the other girls which sometimes proved to be catty and mean - not all of them though, not even most of them either. And for all it’s worth, you did make a friend! Jackie, was her name. Like you, she was looking for a job as a broke collage student, and she’d been in the game for a bit longer, kind of like your guiding light.

“You okay?” She asked, putting on some hairspray as she realized you were focusing on the mirror for a minute too long. “Did you eat?”

“No no, yeah, I did, I just kind of spaced out…just y’know - when your head does that weird thing and you just think a lot.” You said, tearing your eyes away from the mirror to look at her. She was zipping her light blue skimpy dress over the langerie she wore. Just as the rest of you, she looked gorgeous.

“Yeah babe, it’s called overthinking.” She said in a soothing, slightly sarcastic tone. “C’mon, you’re up next”

Oh shit.

You took one last glance at the mirror, making sure everything was up to par before emerging onto the stage, seeing the crowd awaiting you. It always gave you a rush, to feel so desired to be seen.

Clicking your platforms, you approached the pole, spinning around it while everyone cheered, some of the regulars you recognized chanting your name.

Halfway through the song - The Morning by The Weeknd, amongst the sweaty men you caught sight of a few girls, the tall brunette in the middle shyly eyeing you. It must’ve been her first time, you thought, she placed a few bills on the stage, 20s you presumed.

The little wink you gave her once you finished off sure was noticed, making her breath hitch. Sue you, okay? You barely get any girls here, especially ones this pretty.

The DJ collected all your tips as you got off the stage, passing Jackie who was next. It was now your turn to scower the area and get that money. You deserved it after all, dealing with the Wall Street drunk - type of men all day.

Shooting seductive smiles and making eye contact went a long way, especially when they slipped you extra just for letting a quick touch linger. You may have been relatively new, but you knew how to play them better then most. You knew how to make them feel like you gave them everything, not realizing that they left with nothing.

Waiting for anyone else to apporach again would be fruitless, and honestly by the looks of it unwelcome too. So you decided to have some overdue fun and went over to the booth where the brunette sat, greeting her friends as well.

Sure, they looked like they had money to spend with that Dom Perignon on ice resting on their table, but you were interested in something else, though you would never admit it.

As usual you made a show of your beautiful self, swaying your hips slowly as you made your way over. It was what you did best. The party lights worked in your favor, making you seem like you walked right out of a movie. Or heaven. Finally, you approached the group which consisted of two brunettes, one that was yours, you decided, and a ginger girl with who you assumed was her girlfriend, a beautiful mixed woman sitting next to her.

“Hello girls, anyone looking for a dance tonight?” You asked in a sultry tone, leaning your elbows on the table and making direct eye contact with the forementioned girl. She was illuminating, really, with the dark eyes and hair that draped over her shoulders, standing tall like the world owed her for existing and breathing. Just your type. Only a plus that she was loaded and would likely spend a fortune on you alone.

“C’mon Lot.” The redhead girl whispered to her, kicking her under the table. C’mon Lot, you thought to yourself too.

“Uh- yeah, okay, hell yeah.” The brunette said with determination as she stood up, you hooked your arm with hers as you led her towards the private room.

“I’ve uh- I’ve never been here before.” She said, breaking the silence between you.

“No? You seem like you know your way around.” You replied in a rasping tone, a low grin gracing your face as you pushed the padded red door open.

The girl seemed slightly flushed as she plopped down on the leather couch, looking up at you with her capturing brown eyes.

“What’s your name?” You asked as the song started playing, attempting casual conversation.

“Uh- Lottie.”

“Lottie.” You let the name roll off your tongue along with your hips against hers, your back inches away from her chest.

She couldn’t help but focus her gaze on the globe of your ass, doing her best not to jerk her body upwards as you worked your own. You were ethereal, she thought.

“What about you, what’s your name, angel?” Lottie asked in a hushed tone, her hands shaky as she slipped a bill into your glittery g-string.

“Y/N. I like angel though.” You replied with a small chuckle at the end

“Angel it is.”

It seemed a tad bit intimate, even to you. She wasn’t a pig, no. She would never touch you unless you begged her to, even though her eyes were undressing you on their own.

“So uh- this is what you do or- or you go to school or something?” She stammered, clearly flustered

“Yeah. I go to collage here.” You answered, swaying your hips to the rhythm

“Oh, me too! I haven’t seen you before though.” Lottie urged, subconsciously jerking her body towards yours.

“It’s a big school, honey.” You murmured into her ear, along with a swivel of your waist, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. “How was your day?”

“Uh - oh, uh kinda shitty. Dad’s a dick, so.” She replied. Yes, she stuttered because of you. Maybe it was the way you smelled, looked- or maybe it was the setting.

“M sorry Lot. But I’m sure you feel better now.” You honeyed, making sure to lock your eyes with hers once more.

Turning around to hover over her lap, your perfect looking boobs were right in her face, knocking all air out of her lungs. You moved like water, practiced and teasing, the lacy bra you wore giving away a hue of your nipples as you dropped to your knees between her legs.

“Song’s over, baby.” You reminded her with a small smirk.

All she could do was stare down at you with a lustful gaze until she realized the impact of your words, frantically nodding.

“Sorry, yeah, I should get back home anyway.” She stammered, extending a hand to help you get up.

You took it happily, intertwining your fingers with hers as you led her out, Jackie shooting a small smile your way as she prepared for her own client.

Turning to look at the girl beside you once more, her eyes were already tracing your figure.

“Come again, Lottie.” You said huskily, letting go of her.

“Wait- angel!” She yelled out, making you stop in your tracks.

The girl walked up to you again, standing face to face before slipping a - holy shit, 500$ bill into the strap of your bra.

“Make sure to keep track of it.” She whispered into your ear before walking off, back to her friends.

You stood there, stunned. It was good enough that you got a cute, respectful client but apparently she was loaded too? I mean yeah, obviously but- even more than you thought, actually. You definitely hoped she'd visit again.

---------------------------------

Standing out the back with your black coat over your costume, you lit up a cigarette, leaning against the wall while exchanging a tipsy conversation with Jackie, talking smack about some of the clients.

Above you, there was a sign with the club's name reading 'Blacklight', ironically written and glowing in a fiery red.

"So! He pulls out like- a couple hundred and basically demands me to take off my bra! Like dude, you're not seeing my tits for anything under a thousand!" Jackie exclaimed laughing, to which you followed suit. "I did dance for a girl though. Doesn’t happen often."

"Yeah? Did I see her?" You asked, suddenly a bit more interested

"I think she was with that same crew as the hottie you had." Jackie said, narrowing her eyes in curiosity as she took a puff of her pink strawberry vape. "Shauna."

"Oh, cool...this was Lottie." You sassed, raising your brows, "Hottie indeed."

"Hm, okay...oh girl, your shift ended." Jackie asserted, checking her phone for the time

"Fuckin' finally. I'll go get dressed, see you tomorrow." You said in a bit of a rushed tone, stubbing the cigarette with your heel before going back inside.

“See ya.”

You got back to the ready room, greeting another dancer named Jade who was apparently getting ready to leave too. She was one of the nice girls as well, your other friend out here.

"Good game tonight?" She called out, looking up from the bag she was packing.

"Bit better then usual." You said in a flat voice, getting back into your day clothes. And you couldn't bother to take off your makeup - do it at home.

"Oh, great. Need a ride?" She asked, turning to look at you.

"No it's okay, I'll catch a cab. Thanks J." You replied, giving the girl a small smile

You remembered, before putting on your sweater, the generosity that rested in your bra. Pulling the bill out, before folding it you noticed something written on it. A phone number, signed Lottie. You pondered there a little before scrambling the paper along with the rest of your cash. While smiling to yourself just a little. It was like something you could only daydream of.

—————————————

Waking up in your apartment at around 3pm, you were groggy and a bit hungover. It had been a couple days since you’d met Lottie and since then, you weren’t able to stop thinking about her. Sure, you’d gotten phone numbers before but it was from creepy, middle aged guys promising to take you to a very good party to someone’s yacht. Hard pass.

Finally you collected your thoughts and got out of bed heading to the bathroom to take your hair rollers out, and maybe reflect on your thoughts. You were scheduled fairly late tonight, which already made you internally groan - still, it was better then working Mondays.

Now you did externally groan when you realized you were out of coffee, at the worst possible moment too. Okay, maybe not the worst- but still, you liked the dramatics.

This might actually be good, it made you get out of the house and walk all the way over to your local coffee shop. You’d been so slammed with school, you barely got out if it wasn’t for work, so you needed the fresh air and a small break.

Finally as you got there, placing your order and sitting at one of the tables. The familiar dim glow of the cafe washed over you as you made a mental note of the songs you’d want to play tonight, as well as planning to work the main floor. Your thoughts still lingered, on Lottie, that is. As tempting as it was, you weren’t gonna-

Okay, you pulled out the bill with her number, eyeing it for a moment before realizing how ridiculous it must’ve looked, staring at 500 bucks, so you quickly typed the number in.

Sure you’d always been told not to fuck around with anyone you meet at work, but this was definitely not the kind of person Jackie and Jade referred to, and anyway, you’re young! What’s a little-

“Hello?”

The voice called out, unmistakably Lottie. For a moment you were frozen in place, unsure of what to say. But you needed to say something.

“Hey. It’s Y/N, from the other night, I’m not sure if you remember.” You finally spoke.

“Oh…right, I wasn’t sure if you’d call.”

“Well, here I am. Calling.”

“Hm, calling…why?”

“I uh- I wanted to see if you planned on coming by again. Don’t get that many nice customers that tip well too.” You said in a low, teasing tone, practically hearing her smirk over the phone.

“Right. I mean, I might. Think you’ll make it worth my while?” She tried to appear smooth, but there was a noticeable tremble to her voice

“Of course I will.”

“Then I’ll see you, angel.” She sounded almost giddy

Maybe this whole thing was better than you expected it to be.

—————————————

The night in the club was as usual, teetering on the edge of being kind of fun and absolutely exhausting. It was a late Saturday night, the busiest time of the whole week, with only a few dancers available, just your luck.

At least the tips would be through the roof. Judging by the looks of it, some of these men could take care of your entire rent in just one night. Oh but how you had to work for it.

Lucky you however, you’d just finished your dance into a split when you spotted her. Standing confident as ever, in the front of the audience, Lottie.

Shooting you a sly grin, she walked away from the stage, blending into the deep sea of people in front of you. Quickly collecting all your money, you returned to the dressing room. Your mind went a thousand miles an hour, jumping at every thought and possibility. Really, you weren’t expecting her to return, or maybe you just didn’t wanna get your hopes up. Still you were surprised.

Returning back to the main floor, you spotted her sat at the bar. This time, she was alone, all yours.

“Hey, angel.” Lottie said as she saw you approaching, taking a sip of what you assumed was a cosmo.

“Hi, Lot. Nice to finally see you.” You replied with a bit of a teasing tone.

“Yeah uh- I wasn’t sure if I overstepped the other night. I know you must get creeps like that all the time.” She apologized, the slight grimace on her face softening once she saw your small smile.

As tough as she looked, she was a sweetheart really.

“Are you calling me angel to be cute, or did you forget my name?” You asked, sitting next to her.

“No! No, I remember your name, Y/N, right?” She scurried, obviously not realizing you were joking. But a nervous chuckle did leave her when she did. “You said you liked angel.”

“I did, yeah.”

“Anything for you?” The bartender, and your good friend and coworker asked you.

“I’ll have a martini. Extra dirty.” You said huskily before looking back at Lottie, all the sparkles on your eyes beaming at her. There was a clear implication to your words, one even she could pick up on. It was also a small joke.

“Hard to imagine you with a dirty martini dressed in that.” Lottie teased.

And yes, she was right. Tonight, you wore a very cliché pink babydoll that barely covered you up. In fact, if you walked outside in it you’d likely be arrested for public indecency. The type of outfit you’d imagine with a piña colada, maybe.

“I’m more than meets the eye, Lot. So, I’m assuming you were looking for a dance tonight?” You marveled sarcastically, earning a soft giggle from the girl.

“Actually, no. I- I wanted to see you.” She said, sipping her pink drink yet again.

“Well aren’t you sweet.” You honeyed, nipping at your own cocktail. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“Of course I would.”

“Then why come only after I called you?”

“I told you, I was worried I freaked you out or something…I’m really glad you called though.” Lottie asserted, physically restraining her eyes from raking all over your exposed, stunning form.

“Well I am too. You look nice tonight.” You said in a sweet tone. And you weren’t lying either.

Her makeup was pretty minimal, but she had put on a black, semi-tight dress that reached her mid thigh, showing off just enough cleavage to make you want more. It was as if you had a corny high school crush on the girl you met a few days ago, and judging by the way she acted, neither of you were opposed to it.

“I’m gonna ask you something, and you’re more than welcome to say no.” She said in a more serious manner

Fuck.

“Okay…”

“Would you like to…check out my place tonight?”

Bingo.

To understand you, you’d have to understand that you thought life was all about exciting, new experiences. Going home with a beautiful stranger being one of them. Maybe you didn’t know her last name, but you sure as hell were gonna find out the color of her underwear.

“…Sure.”

—————————————

The ride to her house completely went in and over your head as you stood by the front door, seeing her fumble with the keys while you traced her neck with slow, teasing kisses, pulling her back against your front.

Finally she swung the door open, shutting it behind you before picking you up with ease.

You crashed your lips against hers, securing your legs around her waist as she stumbled across the hall, carrying you to what you assumed was her bedroom.

She was strong, stronger than she looked, and was definitely playing into it when she tossed you onto the bed. Hovering over you, she pushed your shirt upwards while leaving a trail of kisses and spit on your jaw.

Her thigh found its way between yours, making you jolt your hips upwards, a movement she relished.

“You’re such a responsive girl, aren’t you?” Lottie called out above you, dragging the thigh up and down your center.

Earning a nod from you she continued her ministrations as she threw your top somewhere across the room. It felt like a fever dream, hooking up in a million dollar house with a girl who is just about your age. No time to be bitter about money though, not when her mouth is eagerly exploring every inch of your skin.

"Lottie please-" You coaxed out as she traced the waistband of your pants.

"Please what? Talk to me, angel." Lottie whispered, although she was already undoing your zipper.

"Please, just fuck me, take me." You stuttered.

Seconds after her soft hands traveled over your plushy, bare thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Leaning in the taller girl kissed and nipped your tummy on her way down. Her touches were hurried and desperate, earning soft whines from you the more they went on. Finally facing your heat and seeing the wet patch on your panties, Lottie sucked in a sharp breath before hooking a finger into your underwear and moving it to the side. The first dip of her tongue into your folds was unmatched, at first slow and unsure. She was trying to figure you out, to see what movements make your breath hitch and your back arch.

Soon enough she found that one spongey spot, the friction on it making you mewl under her. Discarding your panties quickly, she pulled you further into her, throwing your legs over her shoulders and eating you as if you were her last fucking meal. Latching her lips onto your clit, her digits flew to your leaky hole, begging for entrance which you happily granted.

She moved inside you with practice and ease, hitting your g-spot over and over and over.

“Lottie - fuck, I’m gonna come.” You whimpered, not quite expecting her next course of action.

She pulled out, releasing your bud with a wet pop. The grin on her face grew when she saw your expression, needy and unsatisfied.

“I think you’re about ready for my cock, angel.” She said - it was her turn to be a tease.

Going back up, she pressed a searing kiss to your lips. It was quick and wet, just like your oh almost reached orgasm.

Soon enough she strapped up, hovering over you as the tip poked at your entrance. Jolting your hips, you tried to lure her in, at this point becoming completely mindless and putty in her hands.

Getting the signal, she finally slid into you, nice and easy. Watching your blissed out face made her own contort in pleasure, as if she could feel just what she was doing to you. Her hips moved slowly and deliberately, getting you used to the wonderful stretch she provided. Throwing your head back in a silent scream, Lottie picked up her pace, gripping your hips to keep you steady.

Jesus Christ, whoever said strippers fuck best was right. She took note of you under her, fucking back onto the length as if your life depended on it, letting out sweet, filthy pleas just for her.

Crouching down to kiss you, she whispered against your lips. “You look so fucking good baby. So beautiful.”

Her words only urged you on, making you let out desperate cries as the tip of the toy kissed your cervix simultaneously.

“Lottie I’m so close.” You warned again, though this time, it was encouraged.

“Come for me angel, go on.” Lottie whispered into your ear, her words finally pushing you over the edge and making you gush on her cock.

“God, you’re good.” She said, pulling out of you and collapsing next to your tired form.

Your chest heaved with the intensity of the encounter. Turning your head to look at her, you were met with a soft gaze and a smile. You had a hankering this would not be the last time you experience this girl.

[sirhamburrger]

worth it - m. kaiser x f!reader in which you decide to give it another shot with with each other.

tags/cw: exes to lovers, crack (see original req ask) || wc: 1k-ish (i have gone insane)

courtesy of kai’s cat café! - 150 followers event café menu || order progress asks closed.

michael kaiser is convinced his life is 100% a joke. there’s no other explanation for why he’s currently sitting in a dimly lit, overpriced restaurant, waiting for a blind date that his best friend, ness, had insisted he go on.

it'll be fun, ness had said. you haven't dated since her, so just give it a shot.

michael doesn’t do blind dates, doesn’t do serious relationships, and he certainly doesn’t do surprises - which is precisely why he’d refused ness’s ridiculous proposition at first. but between his friend’s relentless nagging and his own begrudging admission that his love life had the excitement of a damp sock, he had caved eventually.

and now, as he swirls the wine in his glass like some kind of brooding movie villain, he wonders if this is the universe’s idea of a cruel prank.

because the person who just walked through the restaurant doors - the person he's meant to be on a blind date with - is none other than you.

michael nearly chokes on his drink at the first glimpse he gets of you. you don’t see him at first, distracted as you scan the restaurant, looking for whoever your own meddling friend had set you up with. when your eyes land on him, your entire body stiffens, and he watches as you cycle through the five stages of grief in record time.

he knows exactly what you're thinking, because he’s thinking the exact same -

out of all the people in the world, why you?

your relationship had ended on less-than-great terms. there had been yelling, multiple dramatic exits and even more dramatic re-entrances, and at one point, if he recalls correctly, a very unnecessary but satisfyingly cinematic slow clap. it had been over a year since the breakup, and though time was supposed to heal all wounds, he wasn’t sure if it applied to two people as ridiculously petty as the both of you.

you take a deep breath and approach the table, walking like someone being led to their inevitable doom. “this is a joke, right?” you say, pulling out the chair with a familiar enthusiasm - the enthusiasm with which one might do the dishes, maybe.

michael leans back in his chair, trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s nothing but. you look good, infuriatingly so.

“trust me, if i were trying to pull a prank, it’d be something a lot more elaborate than this.”

you sigh, shoulders slumping. “so, what? our friends thought it would be hilarious to set us up?”

“looks that way.”

silence stretches between you, heavy with the weight of tense, withering stares and poor life choices, and michael, for all his arrogance, finds himself at a rare loss for words. he should say something clever, maybe. something that would put him back in control of this bizarre situation. instead, he blurts out, “you look... less mad than i expected.”

you blink. “i just got here. give it a minute.”

a beat of silence. then, against all odds, you both snort at the same time.

somehow, you make it through the meal without either of you throwing your drinks in the other’s face. the conversation starts awkward, progresses to dangerous levels of sarcastic, and before long, you’re both swapping old inside jokes, complete with exaggerated impressions of each other. by the time dessert arrives, you’re laughing so hard you nearly snort crème brûlée out of your nose.

reality seems to hit the two of you, then, turning the sweetness of the custard bitter on your tongues.

you poke at your half-eaten dessert with your fork, your voice quieter when you finally speak again.

“do you ever wonder if we could’ve done things differently?”

he pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. he should brush it off, throw out some cocky remark. but instead, he casts his pride aside, sets his fork down and meets your gaze.

“yeah,” he admits. “i do.”

you nod as if you expected that answer. “at least we know our friends are absolutely useless.”

he scoffs. “truly the worst.”

the check arrives, and the night reaches its fated conclusion. you both step outside, the cool air nipping at your skin. for a moment, neither of you move, standing there like two characters in a sitcom finale that never got renewed.

finally, you exhale, pulling your coat tighter. “well. goodbye, kaiser.”

something in his chest tightens at the way you say it. he forces a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “see you around, liebling.”

you roll your eyes at the old pet name but don’t comment. instead, you turn and walk away, down the block. the night seems to swallow you up in seconds.

he watches you go, exhaling. he should turn around and walk the other way. should go home, pretend this night never happened.

but then, just as you reach the corner, you stop.

you hesitate.

and then, as if it takes every ounce of courage you have, you turn back around.

“kaiser.”

he’s already moving before you say anything else, crossing the distance between you with the same reckless abandon he’s always had. you open your mouth, maybe to say something witty, maybe to say nothing at all, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

because before he can overthink it, before either of you can change your minds, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you.

it’s not perfect. it’s a little clumsy, and more a little desperate. but when you kiss him back, fingers tangling in the fabric of his jacket, he swears it might be the best decision he’s made in a long, long time. and when you finally pull away, breathless and a little stunned, you stare at him like you can’t quite believe what just happened.

michael grins, cocky and familiar and maybe just a little hopeful.

“so,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “think our friends would find it hilarious if we gave this another shot?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “they’d be insufferable.”

he hums, tilting his head. “worth it, though?”

you pretend to consider it, but you both already know the answer.

“yeah,” you whisper, smiling giddily. “worth it.”

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[totalswag]

Please a Drew and reader. They are in the dating faze getting to know each other. However Drew is having some trouble getting to know her. Reader has been in a quite toxic relationship before with a guy that could be mean, did not like when she was being physically loving (holding hands, kissing, hugging) brushing her off literally and could sometimes make her feel like she was being a burden whenever she was talking, which in turn has made her not open up to much, in fear, that she will come off as annoying. When they are having a date at home, Drew pulls her close to hold her and kiss her forehead, but she pulls away after awhile. He then brings up what has been bothering him, afraid, sad and a bit nervous that she does not like him as much as he likes her.

you can trust me — DREW STARKEY

authors note hi baby! thank you for the request and sorry it came so late when you initially requested. life has been crazy since my semester has begun.

REQUEST— open

summary holding back when it comes to physical touch and being your complete self in a new relationship with someone new.

warning(s) mentions of past toxic relationships, insecurities, questioning self-worth.

Drew and you have been seeing each other for almost a month. You haven't felt so happy in a long time to be with someone that values, supports, and loves you for who you are.

Meeting him was unexpected but came into your life when you needed him the most. Drew is very gentle with you and patient in ways you couldn't describe.

Drew has noticed that you are reluctant to touch him and quickly pull away or get nervous before taking his hand. This is something he has noticed about you as you have spent more time with him. He wants to know why you're like this but wants you to be comfortable.

Both are getting to know one other. You haven't gathered the guts to discuss your previous relationship with your ex, who treated you like dirt and never wanted you to touch him. Whether it be holding hands, kissing, embracing, or any other physical contact.

Physical touch is a part of your love language. So being pushed away from someone you care about while attempting to express your feelings for them makes you feel burdened.

Your ex ruined you in a lot of ways.

Once you met Drew, immediately knowing you can be yourself with him without him retaliating. But, you haven't showed him that side of you yet because of your past.

Drew invited you to his apartment for dinner tonight and prepared your favorite pasta dish. He understands you've had a difficult week at work, so he thought inviting you over for dinner would cheer you up.

"Thank you for dinner, Drew; it was delicious," you say, smiling sweetly as you finish your pasta.

"I really appreciate that, Y/N," he says with a smile. "I'm always open to making you dinner."

He’s so sweet

Drew and you cleaned the kitchen before heading to the living room to watch a movie to end the night. He thought it would be good to bring out the food and drinks while you waited on the couch.

"What movie do you wanna watch?" With the TV remote in his left hand while looking at the movie selections.

"Uhh pitch perfect" you reply.

Drew nods in agreement, clicking the movie.

Drew tries to wrap his right arm around your shoulder and kiss you on the forehead halfway through the film, but you pull away hesitantly.

"Everything alright, Y/N?" he frowns with emotion and confusion, "did I do something wrong?"

Your heart fell as the question hovered there. You had been sensing this for days, even weeks, so you knew it was coming. But now that it was here, you were at a loss for words, unable to respond or justify it without driving him away.

When you eventually raised your head to meet his, you could feel the sorrow in his eyes, which tightened your chest. Your voice was barely heard as you murmured, "No, you didn't do anything wrong."

Everything in you was crumbling all together.

"Then why?" With a hand sweeping through his hair, he trailed off, unsure of how to carry on. "Why are you putting distance between us? Are you —? When he began again, you could hear his hesitation and fragility in his voice. "Do you not like me as much as I like you?"

Please don't say that

His words punched you in the gut— hitting you so deep. This wasn't fair to him what so ever. You like him as much as he likes you. Feelings are mutual.

"It's not that," you answered hastily, your voice shaking as you tried to fight back the tears that were about to fall. Yes, Drew, I do like you. Many times.

"So why," He asked. Seeking answers, he gazed at you, his eyes darting over yours. "What makes me think that you're scared to let me in?"

Fiddling with your fingers, trying to gather the words to say. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. Drew knows about your last relationship but not the whole gist.

“I’ve been hurt before,” you began, your voice trembling. “My last relationship… it wasn’t good. He made me feel like I was too much, like I was annoying whenever I tried to talk or show affection. He’d brush me off, make me feel like I was a burden. And I guess… I guess I’m afraid of that happening again.”

Drew's expression softens with hurt, anger, and confusion. He continues to let you speak while holding your hands in reassurance—thumb gently circling over your knuckles. You can't help but let a few tears as you speak.

"I'm so sorry you went through that."

"It's not your fault. I've gotten so used to holding everything in, I didnt want you to think of me differently and walk away from me" you confess with your chest.

Drew's other hand reached up to softly cup your cheek and use his thumb to wipe away the tears while his grip on your hand tightened. He said, "You're not going to drive me away," and you might believe him because of the quiet passion in his voice. 

"Y/N, I like you just the way you are. I was immediately drawn to your lovely demeanor and am still doing so now. Nothing you are doing is wrong. His eyes never leaving yours, "We can take this at any pace you want and I'll still be here."

You feel a sense of relief fall off your shoulders. The fear you've been holding back slowly drifts away.

"I want you to show how much you like me whether that be words or physical touch. I would never pull you away."

You didn't push away as he moved in to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though maybe—just maybe—you could begin to lower your barriers as you allowed yourself to lean into him and experience the warmth and security of his embrace.

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[bunni-v1]

Wait I'm sorry back with another unsolicited nsfw harumasa ramble do not let me near this man. I think he would love cockwarming sooo much. After a painfully long day at work his favorite way to relax is sitting comfy on the couch hugging you while your warm, wet pussy hugs him, he swears it melts all his stress away so he needs his "treatment" as often as you'll give it!! I like the idea of him being needy, but not necessarily being in any rush for gratification. He's gonna take his time and enjoy every second of skinship he can get. Face in your boobs or neck, occasionally pressing kisses where he can reach while his hands very idly squeeze or rub your butt or thighs. Pleeeeease play with his hair, its canon he smells wonderful so I'm sure it's silky soft too, tugging on it would get his hips moving. Harumasa king of slow build relaxing orgasms that leave you both sleepy and warm.

Let’s get one thing very very clear before I begin. Harumasa does not top. Ever. Maybe he is the top, okay, sure, but Harumasa is never on top. Got it? Good!

He’ll come in the house, practically dragging himself through the door way, and fall into your chest. He’ll nuzzle himself all up in there, practically breathing you in, then he’ll look up at you with those big stupid puppy dog eyes and you know you’re gonna be stuck on the couch all night.

He’ll put on a movie and let you make dinner, but as soon as you’re done he’s sitting there dick in hand staring at you like a needy little puppy dog. Won’t you indulge him? Give him what he needs to feel better? He had such a hard day, the only thing that could possibly help him feel better would be your pretty little pussy squeezing around him.

He’s so calm about it too, which is incredibly infuriating, because holy fuck it’s so hard to just sit there with his dick filling you up so well. He’s got his chin hooked over your shoulder, happily watching some stupid comedy like he’s not balls deep inside you.

He slides his hands up and down your thighs, as if to soothe you — like you’re an upset child or something. When you squirm he’ll smack your ass with a scolding tut. “Hold still, I can’t relax with you wiggling around like that…” It’s humiliating, but that stupid little pleased smile he gives you almost makes it all worth it.

The movie usually gets discarded halfway through in favor of making out with you. Nice and slow, just like his hands crawling around every inch of exposed flesh they can get to. If you wind your hands through his hair, he’ll let out the most delicious whimper. If you tug he’ll whine and squeeze your thighs nice and tight.

He could (and has) fall(en) asleep inside you, but usually he lets you finish at the very least. You know he’s ready to cum when he starts kissing up and down your shoulder. Mumbling about his day and asking about yours, hands slowly working your shirt and your bra off, fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake with just how light the touch it.

He’ll run his deft fingers across your rib cage, inching up to toy with your nipples. All the while, smiling up at you and your cute little tortured expressions. He’ll grab you by your chin, pouting as he asks you “Do you want to cum baby?” Which obviously, you do, and at that point he’ll ‘give you permission.’ to do just that.

He’ll still control the pace, though, can’t have you cumming too fast now can we? Slow, careful, perfectly angled rolls of his hips up into yours. Each and every single one hitting all the spots inside that make you weak. If you try to alter the pace, he’ll grip you tight and tell you to behave, pressing soft kisses down the column of your neck.

You’ll know he’s close when he rolls his head back, moans becoming pitchy and uneven. He doesn’t stop the slow and easy pace, even when he’s hardly present in his own head. God help him if you press your face into his neck, muffling your own moans against his skins.

He always comes inside, deep, and he holds himself there for as long as you’ll let him. Even as a mix of your juices and his spill out onto his lap and stain the couch. He promises he’ll get you plan b in the morning, just let him stay inside where it’s nice and warm and comfy just a little longer. You love him enough to let him have that at least, right?

He’s coaxing you with gentle massages into your sore hips, and pressing kisses to the side of your sweaty face. How can you say no when he’s being so sweet?

You usually wake up on the couch in the morning with him still inside you. It’s quite a fight to get him up those mornings, since he’s feeling extra comfy and sleepy with you wrapped around him.

[gogogodzilla]

If you take asks for Connor, I'd like a story where basically reader does connor so hard he short circuits or something along those lines and reader is like "omg are you ok???" And after a moment, he's like, "very" idk I hope I explained it well

Missed You || Connor (RK800)

Summary: You couldn't wait for date night.

Warnings: smut, afab read, semi-public sex, fingering, slight choking, Connor has a praise kink, argue w the wall

{Masterlist}

After a few months of dating, you and Connor had developed some form of a schedule. Every Saturday was date night, and this week had you particularly eager for it to arrive. You’d barely spent any time with Connor with him being stuck on a case that had him halfway across the city for most of his days and working late nights. 

Saturday night rolled around like it always did, and you paced your shared apartment in anticipation of Connor arriving. You’d both agreed on just going to a movie. It was the one you’d been dying to see, so you weren’t complaining.  

The sound of keys jingling against the lock had you practically sprinting to the front door and flinging it open. Connor looked down at you with wide eyes, his keys hovering mid-air. 

You grabbed the lapels of his usual suit jacket and brought him into a kiss. He let out a small sound of surprise against your lips but quickly melted into your grasp. He wrapped his arms around you as he nudged you further into your apartment and kicked the front door closed. 

“Missed you,” you murmured against his lips as you ran a hand through his hair. 

He slowly pulled away, taking in your features. “I just need to get changed and then we can go,” he offered, patting your hip as he released you. 

You wanted to say to hell with date night and just ravish him where he stood, but you forced yourself to nod. It’ll be worth the wait, you tried to convince yourself. 

The tension in the air was palpable as Connor emerged from the bedroom, rolling up the sleeves of his button-up. Your gaze traveled up his forearms, taking in every inch of exposed skin. He had the same idea, and his eyes raked over the hem of the dress that danced across your thighs as you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

You forced yourself to look away as you moved to grab your car keys and tossed them to Connor. “Ready?” you questioned, ignoring the way your heart was practically bursting out of your chest from the way he was looking at you. 

“Always,” Connor responded, kissing your forehead as he passed and grabbing your hand to lead you to the elevator. 

You eyed the emergency stop button as you stood far too close to Connor in the cramped elevator. No one would even notice the elevator was stopped for a few minutes, you reasoned.  

Ding!

The chime of the elevator caused you to nearly jump out of your skin, and Connor shot you a look. 

“Are you feeling okay? Your heart rate has been high ever since we left; we don’t have to go to the movie—” 

“No!” you cut him off, even though every fiber of your being was begging you to drag him back into your apartment. “I’m fine,” you assured him, resting your hand on his arm and keeping it there for far longer than you should have. 

He raised a brow, eyeing you. You ignored him and led him out to your car before hopping in the passenger seat. 

Connor wordlessly hopped into the driver’s seat, and you watched him. You wondered if the long week apart was affecting him as much as it was affecting you. You saw how he was practically undressing you with his eyes when he came home. His usual precise movements were far more controlled than they usually were, stiffening every time your skin came into contact with his. It couldn’t hurt to test the waters. 

Connor always set his right hand on the gear shift or your thigh when he was driving, and today was no exception. He loosely gripped the gear shift as he drove, gaze never leaving the road. A wise decision. 

You took his hand and placed it on its normal spot on your thigh. He glanced over at you. You could’ve sworn you saw his free hand tighten on the steering wheel, betraying the small smile that flashed across his lips.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass, and you decide to push your luck a little further. 

“Are these pants new?” you causally questioned as you leaned over and ran a hand down his upper thigh, giving him a perfect view down the bodice of your dress. 

Connor cleared his throat and swallowed hard, “They’re the same pants I always wear.” 

You hum and move to return to your seat, your hand accidentally grazing over the place you wanted so badly. Connor sucked in a breath as he approached the red light. You grinned, bathed in crimson. 

“Connor,” you purred, lolling your head to the side to look at him. The light turned green and he pressed on the accelerator, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. His eyes grazed the bare skin of your thighs before returning to the road. 

Your heart rate picked up as Connor turned down a side street in the opposite direction of the movie theater. You weren’t going to make your showing.

Connor’s movements were controlled as he picked a secluded spot to park. You were on him before he could even fully pull the keys out of the ignition, clumsily climbing over the center console. 

The keys tumbled out of Connor’s hand and clattered to the floorboard, but he didn’t seem to care as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. He pushed the seat back so you could comfortably sit, legs straddling his thighs and skirt hiked up just enough to tease him. 

“Couldn’t wait,” you murmured against his lips as you pulled away, your breaths entangling in one another. 

“You’ve been looking forward to this movie all week,” Connor teased, running a hand up the bare skin of your thigh and cupping the curve of your ass. 

You dipped down and hovered next to his ear, whispering, “I’ve also been looking forward to riding you until you short-circuit.” 

Connor’s grip tightened on your ass, and he shoved your hips down to grind against him. The tent in his pants pressed against your clothed core and caused a shudder to run through your body. 

��“Do you feel what you do to me?” he questioned, voice husky and increasing the ache in your core that had gained intensity since you left the apartment. 

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him and run a hand over his covered length. Connor jutted his hips up to meet you, groaning as you ran a hand over the smooth fabric of his pants. His nails raked up your thighs and he hooked his fingers on the waistband of your underwear and tugged hard enough for the side seams to rip, and for them to fall in his lap. 

Your gasp was quickly swallowed by his lips against yours and his fingers sliding through your folds and circling your clit. Breathy moans escaped you as you shoved your head in the crook of his neck, lazily pressing kisses to the hardly exposed skin. 

He ran a finger over your entrance and you pressed against him, begging for him to fill you. He obliged, slowly inching a finger inside of you before quickly adding another, stretching you deliciously. He pumped his fingers, savoring the way you clenched around him, aching for more. He curled his fingers inside of you, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars, and you cried out his name, throwing your head back. 

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, grinding yourself against his fingers when he stopped his movements. “Please, Connor.” 

He removed his fingers and slipped them past your lips, making you taste yourself. You ran your tongue over the pads of his fingers as you met his gaze. He used his free hand to undo his belt, the smooth leather brushing against your thighs. 

You reached down to where your hips met, unbuttoning his pants and yanking down the zipper, impatience coursing through you. You released his length from his pants, eliciting a breathy sigh from Connor. You pumped your hand, thumb sliding over his tip and spreading the bead of precum that had formed. 

You aligned him with your entrance and you both groaned as you lowered yourself onto his length, savoring the way he stretched you. You started rocking against him, flushing as the suspension of your car squeaked with your movements. 

Connor gathered the skirt of your dress in one hand and watched as you ground against him. You dipped down to kiss him, reaching up to rest one of your hands against his throat. He twitched from within you, and he snapped his hips to meet yours. 

“So good for me,” you praise, squeezing his throat lightly as he looked up at you, eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open. 

His hands found your clit and resumed the same tight circles as before. You released your hold on his throat as you rocked your hips into his, feeling the familiar heat pooling in your stomach. 

It took no time for your release to hit you, Connor’s length finding the spot that had you moaning his name over and over again. Your release caused you to squeeze Connor’s cock, pushing him to finish directly after you. Connor lifted his hips to meet yours, and threw his head back, letting out a guttural moan. His whole body froze and tensed under you as his climax washed over him. Connor twitched inside of you as you slowed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

After a few moments, when his eyes still hadn’t opened, you brushed a finger over his chest, relief washing over you when you felt the familiar thrumming of his bioregulator. 

“Connor?” you murmured, tapping his cheek lightly. “You alright?” 

His lashes fluttered as he slowly opened his eyes, a small smile curving into his features.  “Did I say how much I missed you?” he hummed, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“No,” you mentioned, chucking, “although, I think I have an idea.”

[soaps-mohawk]

They Are Quite Nice

Kyletober Day 7: Titfucking

Summary: He says they’re your best feature. You don’t disagree.

Pairing: Kyle x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,286 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, titfucking, spit, cumshot, Kyle being needy, slight blowjob but it's like a sentence.

A/N: Here you go. Do with this what you will...

MASTERLIST

He’s not being very discreet about it, if one would call having his hands up your shirt discreet. 

It started with him ‘accidentally’ brushing your breasts as he reached for the remote or his phone or the popcorn. Then he rested his hand against your stomach, slowly inching it higher and higher until he was right under your breast. 

It’s cute, the way he tried to sneakily give you a hint of what he wanted, of where his hands were going to end up. 

It was about halfway through the movie when he gave in and just cupped your breasts through your shirt, his fingers sinking through the thin cotton into the plush skin below. It was only a matter of time before he grew bored of fondling you through your shirt and just slipped his hands underneath. 

You’re the only one paying attention to the movie now, Kyle humming quietly in your ear with his hands closed around your breasts, kneading the flesh gently. They’re your best feature, or so he says. While that might be a bit insulting to some, you can hardly disagree. They are quite nice. 

“Fucking love your tits, babe.” He groans in your ear. His cock is hard against your lower back as you sit between his legs in the recliner. It’s been hard for a while now, as soon as he decided to just give in and put his hands on your tits. 

“They love you too.” You smirk as his palms brush over your nipples. 

He chuckles, pressing a line of kisses up the column of your throat. “Will you let me fuck them,” He groans, grinding his hips against your back as he pushes your breasts together. 

“Oh?” The word comes out in a gasp as his fingers brush one of your nipples. 

“Will you let me?” He asks again, his fingers closing around your nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as he waits for your response. You’re getting wet from the pleasing sensation, shifting against him slightly. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He continues. “Get on your knees for me, and I’ll get on mine for you.” 

You bite back a whimper at his words. Kyle is very good with his mouth. He will make it worth your while. You’ll probably end the night with his head between your legs regardless. He does enjoy eating you out, your precious munch. 

You think about it for a moment, building up the suspense. “Deal.” You finally say, pushing yourself up off the recliner to stand. 

He watches as you tug your shirt over your head, revealing your bare tits to him. 

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groans, his bulge very visible under his sweatpants as his eyes lock onto your bare tits. 

You palm them, pushing them together before letting them bounce back into place with a smirk. He licks his lip as he watches them bounce, his hands closing around the arms of the chair. 

You climb onto the couch, kneeling on the cushions. “So? Gonna fuck my tits or what?” 

“Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the recliner, his dick bouncing in his sweatpants. He’s gone commando again, the choice he usually makes when he’s home. Why bother when going commando makes it easier to tug his pants down and fuck you stupid?

He tugs his sweatpants down eagerly, letting them drop around his ankles before stepping out of them. His hand is immediately around his throbbing cock, slowly pumping it as he approaches. 

You adjust yourself on the couch, putting yourself level with his cock. You bend forward, dragging your tongue across his tip before sucking his head into your mouth. You hold his gaze as you drag your tongue around his head, teasing him. His eyes are already hazy, precum dripping out onto your tongue. He could cum just like this with your lips around his tip and your tongue prodding his slit. 

This isn’t the goal though. You promised him. 

You release him, sitting back and pushing your tits together. “Come on, be a good boy and take what you want.” 

“Fuck...” He groans, stepping closer before dragging his cock against your breasts. 

You let his cock drag against your skin as you spit onto your chest, letting it slide down your skin to the top of your breasts. He watches it, prodding the head of his cock between your breasts. You let him in, pushing them back together around his cock. His eyes are focused on the glob of spit trailing down your chest to the top of your breasts. It hits the tip of his cock, mixing with the beads of precum sliding out. He pulls back just a bit to allow it to continue down and ease the drag of his skin against yours. 

You push your tits together as he begins to rock his hips, fucking his cock between your breasts. You stare up at him, holding his dark gaze as he uses you for his pleasure. It’s hard not to stare at him, that pretty face and those gorgeous eyes. 

Those are his best features. 

You spit on your chest again, easing the drag of his skin against yours. His foreskin pulls back with every push of his cock between your tits, the precum dripping from his tip helping with the lubrication of your skin. 

His hands drop to his hips as he picks up the pace, sliding his cock between your breasts faster and faster. He’s desperate, getting closer and closer as you squeeze your tits around him, starting to move them with his thrusts. 

“Don’t stop.” He moans, his thrusts getting faster and faster as you squeeze your tits as tight as you can around him. “Don’t fucking stop.” 

“Gonna cum for me?” You say, still holding his gaze. “Gonna spill all over my tits? Make a mess?” 

He lets out a needy moan, his thrusts getting frantic. “Yes! Fuck, yes!” 

His cock pushes above your breasts, your head tilting back to avoid getting hit in the face as he spurts across your chest and neck, his cock twitching between your breasts. He’s moaning and whining, his hand slipping down to cup his balls like he’s trying to squeeze out as much as he can. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans, stepping back to free his cock from between your breasts. 

You gather some of his cum off your chest, slipping your coated fingers into your mouth. His jaw goes lax as he watches, your tongue cleaning his salty cum off your fingers. You’re still holding his gaze, blinking innocently up at him. 

His eyes go dark as he watches you, switching from your needy boy into the dominant man in a blink of an eye. “Up.” He motions with his hand and you do as he says, pushing yourself up off your sore knees so you’re standing. 

He drops to his knees in front of you, his fingers slipping around the waistband of your panties. He eagerly licks at your clit through the lacy fabric, making you gasp. He sucks at the bud through the fabric before he pulls away, tugging them down your legs. He steadies you as you step out of them, your pussy clenching when your damp folds hit the cool air in the room. 

You’re soaked, thighs wet with your arousal from the last hour. His hands cup your ass, pulling you forward so he’s between your legs before he tosses one leg over his shoulder. He steadies you, your pussy right up against his face, just where he likes it. Your hand cups the back of his head as he dives right in, doing as he promised and returning the favor. 

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[sleepberries]

Hiii!!! How you doing? I hope ok!!

Hear me out on a spideyhood fic =Peter parker purrs

Cause some spiders like the wolf spider makes a sort of purring noise to attract mates waht if peter did it when hes happy or comfortable?

Let me now what you think hope you have a wonderfull day💖💖

My baby^^ (i love spiders so much☺️)

hehe yes ofc !! i've thrown some tidbits of peter purring through the series so far, but here's an actual fic for it 🙇‍♂️ i hope to explore more of peter's more spidery traits in the future !!

The Sound of Contentment

Jason was absolutely certain that he was hallucinating.

It had been a long night—the kind that left bruises blooming beneath his armor and fatigue settling deep in his bones. Patrol had run later than expected, a weapons shipment requiring more firepower than he'd anticipated. By the time he dragged himself through his apartment window at 3 AM, all he wanted was a hot shower and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.

What he found instead was Peter Parker sprawled across his couch, fast asleep with one of Jason's dog-eared paperbacks open on his chest. This wasn't unusual—Peter had a habit of appearing in Jason's apartment at odd hours, usually with takeout or some crisis that needed talking through. What was unusual was the sound coming from him.

A low, gentle rumbling that rose and fell with each breath.

Jason froze halfway through removing his helmet, convinced his exhausted brain was playing tricks on him. He set the helmet down carefully on the counter and moved closer to the couch, tilting his head to listen.

There it was again. A soft, rhythmic vibration that sounded suspiciously like... purring?

"What the hell?" Jason muttered, leaning closer.

Peter shifted in his sleep, the book sliding dangerously toward the edge of his chest. Jason caught it before it could fall, marking the page out of habit before setting it on the coffee table. The movement stirred Peter, his eyelids fluttering.

The purring stopped abruptly.

"Mmm... Jason?" Peter mumbled, blinking owlishly up at him. "You're back. What time is it?"

"Late," Jason answered, still staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Or early, depending on how you look at it."

Peter yawned, stretching his arms above his head in a motion that was distinctly feline for someone supposed to have spider-based abilities. "Sorry for crashing. I was waiting for you and must've fallen asleep."

"Were you purring?" Jason asked bluntly.

Peter's sleepy expression snapped into sudden, wide-eyed alertness. "What? No. That's—why would you—that's ridiculous."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You were making a noise."

"I was snoring," Peter said quickly. Too quickly. "I snore sometimes. May used to complain about it when I'd fall asleep on the couch during movie nights."

"That wasn't snoring," Jason insisted. "I know what snoring sounds like. Dick sounds like a chainsaw when he sleeps. That was..." He searched for the right word. "...vibrating."

Color crept up Peter's neck to his cheeks. "Must've been the heating system. Or your refrigerator. Those things make weird noises sometimes."

Jason crossed his arms, wincing slightly at the pull of a fresh bruise. "My refrigerator doesn't follow your breathing pattern, Parker."

Peter sat up, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Look, can we pretend this conversation isn't happening? I'm still mostly asleep and you look like you've been hit by a truck, so maybe we should both just... go to bed and forget about this."

"Fine," Jason said after a moment, too tired to push it. "But this isn't over."

Peter's relieved smile was worth letting it go. For now.

"You're the best," Peter said, standing and stretching again. "I'll take the couch. You look like you need a real bed more than I do."

Jason nodded, already heading for the shower. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Already found it," Peter called after him.

Of course he had.

Jason didn't forget.

For the next two weeks, he paid closer attention when they were together, watching for any signs of the strange sound he'd heard that night. But Peter seemed to be on his guard, carefully maintaining control even when they were relaxed together.

It wasn't until movie night at Jason's apartment—Peter's choice, some science fiction film with questionable physics but decent explosions—that Jason got his second clue.

They were on Jason's couch, Peter tucked against his side with Jason's arm draped casually around his shoulders. The film had hit a quieter moment, the protagonist having an emotional revelation about the nature of time or existence or whatever—Jason had lost track about twenty minutes in, more focused on the warm weight of Peter against him.

And there it was again—so faint he almost missed it. That gentle rumbling vibration.

Jason went very still, not wanting to alert Peter that anything was different. He concentrated on keeping his breathing even, his posture relaxed, while straining to hear the sound better.

Definitely purring. It was subtle, more felt than heard, a continuous vibration that seemed to emanate from deep in Peter's chest. It had a strangely soothing quality, like the distant rumble of summer thunder.

Fascinated, Jason experimentally tightened his arm around Peter's shoulders, pulling him a fraction closer.

The purring intensified slightly.

Interesting.

Jason waited a few more minutes, then slowly, deliberately, began running his fingers through Peter's hair—something he'd done before, knowing how Peter leaned into the touch like it was the best thing he'd ever felt.

The effect was immediate. The purring grew stronger, and Peter melted against him, eyes half-closing in apparent bliss.

"You're not watching the movie," Peter murmured, though he made no attempt to move away from Jason's touch.

"The movie's boring," Jason replied, continuing the gentle motion of his fingers through Peter's hair. "This is more interesting."

Peter made a noncommittal noise, then seemed to realize what was happening. The purring cut off abruptly, and he tensed under Jason's arm.

"You're doing it again," Jason said, keeping his voice neutral.

Peter sighed, defeated. "Damn it."

"So, purring," Jason said, fighting to keep the amusement out of his voice. "That's a new one. I thought your whole thing was spider-based."

Peter groaned, burying his face in Jason's shoulder. "It is. But apparently some spiders make vibrations to communicate. I didn't know I could do it until... well, I didn't know until someone pointed it out."

"Someone besides me?"

"Gwen noticed it first," Peter admitted. "Back when we were together. She thought it was cute."

"But you don't," Jason guessed, noting the embarrassment in Peter's voice.

Peter lifted his head to look at Jason, his expression a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. "It's weird. It's one more thing that makes me not... normal."

The way he said "normal" made something twist in Jason's chest. He knew that feeling too well—the sense of being fundamentally different, marked by experiences that separated you from everyone else.

"Normal is overrated," Jason said, meeting Peter's gaze steadily. "And for the record, I don't think it's weird."

"No?" Peter looked skeptical.

"No," Jason confirmed. Then, because he couldn't resist, "I think it's hilarious."

Peter punched his arm, but there was no real force behind it. "Jerk."

"Your jerk," Jason corrected, resuming the gentle motion of his fingers in Peter's hair. "Now purr for me, bug boy."

"Spiders aren't bugs, they're arachnids," Peter said automatically, but he was already relaxing against Jason again. "And I can't just do it on command. It just... happens when I'm really comfortable or happy or... whatever."

Jason smirked. "So I make you happy, huh?"

"Don't let it go to your head," Peter muttered, but there was no heat in his words. After a moment, he added more quietly, "But yeah. You do."

Something warm unfurled in Jason's chest at that. He pressed a kiss to Peter's temple, oddly touched.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the movie playing forgotten in the background. Eventually, as Jason continued his gentle ministrations, the purring resumed—hesitant at first, then more confident when Jason didn't comment on it.

It was... nice. Soothing in a way Jason hadn't expected. The steady vibration against his side felt intimate somehow, a wordless expression of contentment that Peter couldn't hide or fake.

"I like it," Jason said finally, his voice lower than he'd intended. "The purring. It's... I like knowing you feel safe with me."

Peter looked up at him, surprise evident in his expression. Then his features softened into something warm and genuine. "I do. Feel safe with you, I mean."

Coming from someone who had spent so much of his life in danger, who carried the weight of responsibility that came with his powers, it felt like a gift—that trust, that vulnerability.

Jason tightened his arm around Peter's shoulders. "Good."

The purring grew louder, and neither of them mentioned it again that night.

After that, the purring became a regular part of their relationship—a barometer for Peter's comfort and happiness that Jason found himself listening for without even realizing it.

He discovered that certain actions were particularly effective at triggering it: running his fingers through Peter's hair, tracing patterns on his back, holding him close after a particularly harrowing patrol. The sound became a comfort to Jason too, a tangible reminder that despite everything—their dangerous lives, their complicated histories, the odds stacked against them—they had found something good together.

One afternoon, after a rare day when neither of them had responsibilities, they were sprawled on Jason's bed, Peter half on top of him, both of them drifting in and out of a lazy doze. Peter was purring steadily, the vibration rumbling against Jason's chest where Peter's head rested.

"Does anyone else know?" Jason asked suddenly, the question occurring to him for the first time. "About the purring, I mean."

Peter was quiet for a moment, the purring faltering slightly before resuming. "Gwen did. Aunt May figured it out eventually—kind of hard to hide when you fall asleep on your guardian's lap. And I think Matt noticed it during patrol once, but he was polite enough not to mention it."

"So just the people closest to you," Jason observed.

Peter nodded against his chest. "It's not something I advertise. Can you imagine if the Avengers found out? Fantastic Four? I'd never hear the end of it."

Jason smirked, imagining the reactions. "Their loss. It's cute."

"You think everything I do is cute," Peter said, the smugness in his voice unmistakable.

"Not everything," Jason countered. "Your cooking is a crime against humanity. And that dance you did when you thought you won at Mario Kart before realizing you were looking at the wrong screen? That was just sad."

Peter lifted his head to glare at him, but the effect was ruined by the lingering softness in his eyes and the fact that he was still purring. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"So you keep telling me." Jason ran a hand down Peter's back, smiling as the purring intensified in response. "And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," Peter agreed, settling back against Jason's chest. After a comfortable silence, he added, "Does it bother you? Really?"

Jason considered the question seriously. "No," he said finally. "It's just part of you. Like everything else."

He felt rather than saw Peter's smile. "Red Hood, secret softie. Who would've thought?"

"Tell anyone and I'll deny it," Jason warned, but he was smiling too. "Gotta maintain my reputation."

"Your secret's safe with me," Peter promised, the purring growing louder as he relaxed further. "Just like mine is with you."

Jason tightened his arms around Peter, feeling strangely protective of this unusual trait that Peter had trusted him with. It was one more piece of the puzzle that was Peter Parker, one more thing that made him who he was—brilliant, strange, endearing, and entirely unique.

And maybe a little bit cat-like, though Jason would never say that to his face.

"Go to sleep, Parker," Jason murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head. "You're keeping me awake with your engine running."

Peter's laugh vibrated against his chest, mingling with the purring in a way that Jason felt in his bones. "Your fault," Peter mumbled, already drifting off. "You started it."

As Peter's breathing evened out into sleep, the purring continuing softly, Jason found himself thinking that of all the unexpected turns his life had taken, this might be one of the strangest—and definitely one of the best. Sharing his space, his life, with someone who literally purred with contentment in his presence.

It was ridiculous. It was perfect. It was them.

And really, what more could he ask for?

[blondemrk]

I SAW U WERE ASKING FOR RECO IDEAS FOR JAEM... Bff to lovers? roommates to lovers? study buddy to lovers????

MOVIE NIGHTS

wc 521 jaemin x fem!reader genre bff to loves

it started with a movie night, like it always did.

jaemin and y/n had been best friends for as long as either of them could remember, and their friday night tradition was sacred—blankets piled high, takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, and a movie playing in the background that neither of them really paid attention to.

tonight was no different. except, it was.

because y/n was hyper-aware of how close jaemin was sitting, how his knee kept brushing against hers, how his stupidly soft hoodie smelled like fresh laundry and something undeniably him. she had spent years convincing herself that her feelings were just friendship, but lately, it felt impossible to ignore the way her heart sped up whenever he looked at her.

“you’re staring,” jaemin mused, eyes still locked on the screen.

she immediately looked away, cheeks heating. “i am not.”

he smirked, finally turning to face her. “you totally were.”

“you have something on your face,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t notice how flustered she was.

jaemin leaned closer, resting his cheek on his palm. “oh? then wipe it off for me.”

she shot him a look. “you have hands, idiot.”

“but i want your hands on me.”

her heart did an embarrassing little flip at that, and she cursed herself for how easily he affected her. huffing, she reached up, swiping her thumb across his cheek in a way that was probably more tender than necessary.

“there,” she murmured, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her hand lingered.

but of course, jaemin noticed everything.

his gaze softened, and suddenly, the teasing air between them melted into something quieter, something that made y/n’s breath hitch. the movie was still playing in the background, but the only thing she could focus on was the way jaemin was looking at her—like she was something worth holding onto.

“you know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “i think about this a lot.”

her throat went dry. “think about what?”

he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “what it would be like if we stopped pretending.

y/n’s heart stuttered. “jaemin…”

he squeezed her hand gently. “you don’t have to say anything. but if you feel the same way—even just a little—i’d really like to kiss you right now.”

time seemed to slow as she stared at him, at the boy who had been her best friend for years, who knew all her quirks, who had been by her side through everything. and in that moment, she realized she didn’t want to pretend anymore either

so, instead of answering, she leaned in, closing the small distance between them.

jaemin met her halfway, his lips soft and warm against hers, like he had been waiting for this moment just as long as she had. the kiss was slow, sweet, and filled with years of unspoken feelings finally spilling over.

when they pulled away, jaemin rested his forehead against hers, grinning like an idiot.

“best movie night ever,” he murmured.

y/n laughed, squeezing his hand. “yeah. it kinda is.”

hi! cute little jaem fic for today

taglist @chenlezip @mrkified @polarisjisung @injvns

[jjtheresidentbaby]

hi hi <3 hope you're doing okay :) can u do a cg!rafe cameron x little!reader where reader gets minorly wounded, like after falling from their bike or something, and rafe patches them up? thank you <3

˚. ❝₊˚ sunburnt ❞ ˚₊·

» rafe cameron x reader

» a/n: I have an extremely bad sunburn rn so that’s what I went with hope you don’t mind

» warnings: rafe is rubbing product on reader’s back while they’re shirtless but it’s in no way nsfw, talk of the pogues watching over reader, little!sarah mentioned, cg!kie & cg!pope mentioned, cg!barry mentioned, post canon, pet names

You wince as Rafe helps pull your shirt over your head, revealing the worst sunburn Rafe has seen since Sarah got near second degree burns when they were kids, he winces right alongside you. Given for different reasons; you hate the feeling of the material sticking your your skin and causing even more pain to the tight skin, and Rafe because seeing just how bad things have gotten without him around pulls on his heart strings.

It was only a week. One week with the pogues, Sarah acting as your main caregiver but having to have Kie take over when Sarah slipped halfway through the trip you guys took to the mainland. It was- an eventful week, to say the least. Kie and Pope stepped up and were much better at applying sunblock regularly than Sarah in her own regressed state, but the damage was already done and both Kie and Pope looked more than worried when they handed you off to Rafe two days ago. You’re a little surprised he didn’t go off on them then and there.

“Hurts.” You mutter when Rafe runs his hands gently over your back, the way your skin is hot to the touch cause even more worry in Rafe’s mind. He really doesn’t want to have to take you to the hospital.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I’m gonna apply some coconut oil and then we can go lay back down.” You’ve found the coconut oil works better than the aloe as it leaves your skin moisturized for longer.

“M’kay, can we watch a movie?” That’s all the two of you have been doing for the past two days.

By the time you were driving back to Rafe’s after being away from him for a week you were so homesick Jj had to keep his legs thrown atop yours so you wouldn’t try and climb to the front of the van to get John B to drive faster- it’d be an embarrassing moment to think of if it wasn’t all worth it when Rafe came into view as you rounded the corner to Tannyhill and saw Rafe sitting on the porch waiting for you. The house is technically his and Sarah’s but with Sarah spending almost all her time at the rebuilt chateau, it’s basically just Rafe’s place that acts as storage for some of Sarah’s stuff.

“Course, what do you wanna watch?” Rafe asks and rubs some more oil onto your bare back, making sure that he’s being as careful and soft with his touch as he can be.

“Moana?” A small smile creeps onto Rafe’s lips as he nods along.

“Didn’t we watch that yesterday?” You shrug.

“I like it. Can we ask Barry to come over and watch it with us?” Rafe is obviously your favorite person while you’re regressed but Barry is a close second, and the both of them together is perfect to you. They never fail to make you laugh just by the way they interact with each other and the sidebar jokes Barry shoots your way as Rafe tries to dismiss every word he says.

“Sure, sweet thing. Do you need him to pick up anything before he comes over?” You shake your head and lift your arms when Rafe comes to slip your shirt back on, it’s actually his own but it’s loose and cotton so it’s more comfortable on your skin.

“Not even some fries from The Wreck?” A quirked brow gets sent your way and you quickly scramble to climb into Rafe’s lap before he can pick up the phone to call Barry.

“Wait- wait, yeah fries, get fries.” You plead and Rafe hums along with an arm slipped around your waist to make sure you won’t fall off his lap.

“You sure? You just said you didn’t want anything… Barry will be here quicker if he doesn’t stop-.” You cut Rafe off with a serious look on your face that he finds undeniably cute.

“I lied, I want fries. I don’t care if Barry takes ten hours to get here, I want those fries.” It’ll really only add ten minutes to the route for Barry to go into The Wreck and order some food to-go.

“Okay, okay, I’ll make the call.” He soothes and grabs his phone as you lean back into his chest with a content sigh. Your back doesn’t hurt as bad as it did when you first came home and spending the day with your favorite people will help you forget just how much you missed Rafe in the first place.

[rafeyscumangel]

‘𝑜𝒽 𝓂𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹, 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓅 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑒𝒶𝓇’

༯ Summary: You’ve always been single, thought it was a curse, but little did you know mr cupid was just waiting for the right person, Pope. And with the help of mr cupid and his special chocolates you finally break the curse of being single

a/n: The smut is kind of just inserted into the story lmao, i really didn’t know how to make this smutty but alass people wanted smut so it’s a tad bit rushed

༯ the cupids enchantings event

༯ Content warnings: 18+!, MDNI!, protected sex, p n v, big dick Pope bc it’s canon, soft and kinda awkward first time between Pope and Reader, kind of softdom!Pope(they’re both kinda neutral ngl)

You were crouching on your feet, hair done up in a messy bun and a simple white tank with no bra and light blue denim shorts on. Since it freshly rained you decided you’d pick up some worms for fishing, having already collected a container worth of worms, halfway done with this container.

All of your recently gained friends were gone away for their valentines date, you still being as single as always. You’ve met Pope, John B, Sarah and all them a couple months ago while they were in Charleston. The downside of being friends with them is the crazy messes you get dragged into, the upside is the fact you met your best friend who is also single. So now you weren’t the complete odd one out.

Pope being your best friend, despite how different you two are from each other. It helped to bond the two of you. You believed that he was gone grocery shopping, having gone with all the rest to get dropped off and save time.

You sighed as you finally stood up, the tension in your knees clear from spending such a long time bent like that. You successfully got two, packed full containers of worms for fishing. You definitely needed a break, so you plopped down onto a log. Stretching your legs out wide, legs shaking from the nice stretch. You yawned, the gently moving water and unusual silence creating a comfortable atmosphere.

And then you heard bags rustling and someone running towards you. Your shoulders slumping slightly at the quickly ruined peace, but your disappointment was quickly gone once you realized it was Pope.

“Y/N!” He called, two big bags in hand. He was panting as if he ran all the way here- which, knowing Pope, he most likely did.

“Yeah?” You asked, smiling as you watched him reach you, sitting down next to you on the log. You eyed his hands curiously as he brought the bags forward and in front of him.

“Got something for both of us.” He said, glancing up at you with a soft smile before looking back down at the bag. Moving all the other junk aside as he searched inside it, eyes finally landing on a light pink box with gold and hot pink accents. He pulled it out, shooting you a smile and turning to you, positioning the box in front of him for you to see.

Your interest was immediately piqued as you saw the red and light pink chocolates. Smile plastering your face as you took the box from him. “Chocolates?” You asked with a soft chuckle.

Pope smiled as he watched the smile form on your face and eyes analyze the chocolates, resting his elbows on his knees as he nodded. “Yeah, figured we could have our own like.. mini valentines hang out since we’re the only one without dates.” He explained humorously.

“Way to throw it in my face.” You giggled while looking for a way to open the box.

Awkwardly chuckling at your words he nodded before looking back down at the bag. “Got some drinks too, and some other snacks. Maybe we can have like.. a movie night.” Pope suggested as he hooked his hands through the handles of the plastic bag. Doing a convincing job at acting nonchalant despite the frantic beating of his heart inside his chest.

You nodded, glancing up at him as you looked back at the chateau. The others were going to be gone all day, so you might as well. “Sure.” You said as you looked back again him, standing up from the log and motioning towards the chateau. “Let’s go.”

And that leads to now. You and Pope on the couch together with a big blanket thrown over you’s. Though the tv was nothing but background noise as the only thing the two of you were paying attention to was each other. Snacks thrown to the ground and the now empty box of chocolate was thrown randomly next to you. Your body huddling above his lap while you two made out with each other. Pope’s hands placed gently on your hips while yours gently held his face. What started as an innocent little movie night turning to a desperate, lust induced confession.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the warmth of Pope’s body heat seep through the fabric of your clothes. Your mind lingering on his confession and the fact this would be you first, proper time having sex. Having actual sex with someone you care about and who cares about you just as much- not just a drunken hookup.

Popes hand moved up from your hip to your waist. The two of you pulling back for air. Pope couldn’t help but admire your flushed features. His actions emboldened after eating the chocolates somehow- why he feels this way after eating the chocolates in the back of his mind as he instead just focused on you.

You locked eyes with him as you pulled away, rubbing soft circles along his cheek with your thumb that made Popes insides flip with butterflies. Biting your lip before speaking. “Do you wanna go farther?” You asked, attempting to hide the pure need in your tone as you resisted the urge to grind against his lap.

It took Pope a second to process your words before he nodded, stuttering out a ‘yeah’ as one of his hands moved from your body to check his pockets for a condom, which he didn’t even have. After all- he wasn’t expecting to hook up with the girl he’s been crushing on for the last couple months.

You chuckled as you watched Pope check all his pockets for a condom, bringing one of your hands down to rest on his chest while you reached over to the couch side table, knowing that John B always kept condoms available in there. “Relax, John B always has condoms around.”

Pulling open the drawer, you immediately spotted the condoms pushed up to the back of the small storage compartment. You grabbed three different sizes, leaning back up you awkwardly held them towards Pope, gulping slightly in embarrassment. “So uh… what’s your size..?”

And in just a couple minutes your denim shorts and panties were thrown off to the ground along with Pope’s own shorts and boxers. Your legs on either side of his lap as you held onto his shoulders for support. Biting your lip in anticipation as Pope held onto your waist with one hand and lined himself up with the other. His thumb rubbing soothing shapes on your skin.

“You can uh.. go down.” Pope said, unsure of how to properly word it. His hand now moving to rest on the other side of your waist as he looked up at you. You nodded as you slowly and nervous moved down, you breath catching in your throat as the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance. He was no doubt the biggest guy you’ve hooked up with- and you haven’t had sex for in a while.

A soft moan spilled from your lips as you started sinking down on his cock, the stretch both delicious and painful. Pope caught on quickly as he started rubbing soothing circles on your waist, biting his lip as he watched his cock disappear into your pretty ‘n tight cunt. Helping you down softly with a bit of pleasure, muttering praises. “Shit you feel so good,” “Taking me so well already.”

You let out a shaky moan once you finally managed to take him all the way, your hands holding firmly on his shoulders. Pope had to bite back one of his own moans as he felt you sweet cunt completely engulf his cock.

“Does it feel ok?” He murmurs into your neck while littering it with soft, comforting kisses. You couldn’t help the way you clenched around him at his sweet words, nodding as you bit your lip.

“Yeah yeah, feels good.” You replied before moving your hips up and down. Moans immediately spilling from the both of you. You were being stretched in such a delicious way, his cock hitting every sensitive spot in you. That combined with the overall intimacy had you seeing stars.

Popes grip on your hips tightened as he slowly helped you ride his cock. His head hiding in your neck while your arms pulled at the fabric of his shirt. Pope swore he could cum right then and there with how pretty your moans sounded, even prettier than he could imagine.

“Shit- i’ve liked you for so long..” He whispered into your neck just loud enough for you, eliciting in a smirk forming on your face.

Your words were breathy as you spoke. “Well it sure took you long enough to make a move.” You teased, moving back to place a kiss to his lips which he melted into immediately. His hands moving your hips at a faster pace which had you moaning into the kiss.

You guys alternated between kissing and praising each other. The pleasure unlike any of your previous hook ups. The pace that would usually not do it for either of you feeling even better than either of you would have imagined. Pope and you were quick to come undone. The room full of the moans of both of yous while you guys leaned into each other’s touch.

Your forehead resting against Popes as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasm. A smile making its way onto your face once you pulled away just enough to make eye contact with Pope who were an even bigger smile than you.

“So we’re official now?” You asked, your tone questionable in a teasing way.

Pope just laughed, nodding as his hands moved to meet behind your back, wrapping and trapping you and into his arms. “Yeah. Definitely official.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

༉ taglist: @tashiagalinda @littlxpxtal @starsval @rafestoothbrush @subconsciouscollapse @marleymarleymarleymarley @riaras-everthroner

tagging muts: @rafesheaven @personapeters @hauntedfawnn @cameronsprincess @moonlightrafe @winnie1emon

[lalacliffthorne]

christmas with the modern!batboys!roommates - as headcanons 💕

because there's way too much I wanna talk about to just put it into a meek lil drabble!!! and I actually can't wait for christmas now. 🎄

merry christmas ya filthy animals 🎀

it's about halfway through November when you decide on spending your Christmas at the flat

reason is the fact that all of your three roommates will, for once, also be staying for the holidays

usually, Rhys is forced into an awkward, stilted celebration with his father that mostly consists of very tense dinners, coffees and him trying to flee to his room for as much time as possible

Azriel always visits his mother, and Cassian usually either stays at the flat or visits the orphanage he spent half of his childhood in to help with the kids

but this year, Rhys' father isn't even in the country because of some business deal

Rhys jumps at the opportunity to avoid one awful holiday and decides to not go with him and instead spend christmas at the flat

Azriel's mother is seeing someone new who invited her to spend the holidays in the mountains

Az really doesn't want to be third-wheeling, so he, too, decides to stay home

(you're a bit surprised he's so unbothered about his mother dating someone new

he is quite protective of her

but then again, Az is quicker than even Mor at stalking someone on the internet

and out of all of you, has probably the best intuition when it comes to people

which means the new guy seems to have passed all the first hurdles)

Cassian doesn't let it show too much bc he doesn't want them to feel bad about how things usual go

but you can tell he's beyond happy to have them there

Mor's also staying in town and will be over for Christmas Eve

you usually always go home for the holidays

but sometimes, it's time for new traditions, right?

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Your voice rises over the sound of the movie, and with a curious look, Rhys turns it on mute before looking your way, Cassian, lounging in one of the armchairs, craning his neck to do the same when you worm yourself out of Azriel's arms where you have been curled up for the past half an hour, barely paying any attention to the TV.

You can feel Azriel's eyes on the side of your face when you grin sheepishly.

"I - I think I'm gonna stay here as well for Christmas."

Cass crunches his brows in surprise. "What about your family, don't you go home usually?"

"Yeah." Rhys grins. "Won't you be missed?"

You huff at him.

"They might come here for a few days during the holidays, but -" You shrug and grin at them. "I don't know, I feel like I want to stay here this year." You frown in thought. "Would be weird to just leave you all here."

Cassian starts grinning toothily, and just that would have convinced you that this is definitely the right decision. But then you turn your head and find Azriel staring at you, the golden spots in his eyes seeming to twinkle in the warm light, and your heart does a flip.

Yep. Definitely worth it.

and with that and the knowledge that all of you will be spending Christmas at the flat together - you decide on going all in.

everything starts with the flat.

it's your home, your place to be after all

and it deserves to be spruced up and decked to completion

which is why it becomes first thing on your big Christmas list

because the boys usually don't spend the holidays at the flat, there aren't really any decorations in storage down in the basement

so the next Saturday, you and Rhys hit the high street and every place in town needed for the perfectly decorated flat

you get fir garlands and fairylights, together with an unholy amount of candles

in a concept store next to the café where you take a much needed break around lunchtime, you find funky glass baubles

(you make sure you take the black camera and one of the motorcycles)

in another store, you find big stars made out of thick paper for the windows, even light up ones, along with stockings and some candleholders for the big dining table in the living room

(because of course there will be a ridiculous amount of food, if the way Rhys has been buried in cookbooks for the past few days is any indication)

you even get a new set of dishware

on the market, you score some big wreaths

Rhys buys mistletoe; so much of it, you're wondering whether he wants to plaster the whole house

you get ribbons and wrapping paper, festive cookie cutters, trinkets and more candles -

then, the next morning, Rhys turns up the Christmas music, and you get to decorating

because Cassian is tallest, he is tasked with anything that involves hanging things up the second he steps through the front door

fastening garlands and fairylights to the doorways, putting up the light up stars you got for the windows and the one for your room that fits its colorscheme

and hanging up the mistletoe

you place garlands over the mantle of the fireplace, together with fairy lights and candles

the window sills get the same treatment, while outside, Rhys fights with a long string of tangled lights to wrap around the balustrade of the balcony and the bushes

for safety reasons, the stockings are hanging underneath one of the windows and not above the fireplace

(you don't want any accidents involving burning stockings)

you found some pillow cases and a cozy blanket for the couches that fit the theme, and the coffee table is decorated with more candles and a wreath with bows you tied meticulously

you even set up the big dining table in the living room, with more garlands and candles and some of the baubles, and the new dishware

(you rarely use that table because you always eat in the kitchen anyway, so it can stay like that until the holidays)

the bookcases get covered in fairylights and little trinkets, the mirror gets a stole of fir

you're hanging up the biggest of the wreaths with a big red bow at the front door of the flat when Azriel comes home

the corner of his mouth kicks up when he sees you, some glitter on your face, a black bow in your hair and beaming at him

and his eyes actually twinkle a little when he sees the decorated flat

Cassian is positively buzzing with happiness when he hangs up the final wreath in the kitchen window

Rhys has hung some fir branches over the table, with some baubles and ornaments dangling from them and candles sitting on the wooden tabletop

every room smells like pine and firewood and it makes your heart skip with happiness

Rhys smirks and drops his arm onto your shoulder

"not bad, darling. not bad at all."

and with that, the festive time between decorating and the actual holidays begin

and you plan to enjoy every second

one of the first days of December, all of you embark on the most important mission of all:

finding the perfect tree

there's a pop up outdoor place selling trees a little walk away from the flat

Rhys, extravagant as usual, wants to take the huge fir tree right at the entrance

you manage to convince him that even though your apartment does have very nice high ceilings, a tree the width of both Cassian and Azriel combined would be just a little over the top

Cassian votes for a slightly crooked specimen that's about two feet taller than him

("it's got character.")

in the end, Azriel is the one who finds the perfect one

"What about that one?"

Turning at the sound of Azriel's deep, calm voice, you slip past a bickering Rhys and Cassian, and Az looks down at you when you shiver happily and slide your cold hand into his pocket, curling yourself into his side.

It's gotten really freaking cold.

Squinting, you look up at the tree you're standing in front of. It's probably a foot taller than Cass, it's branches thick and close together and it's top just the tiniest bit crooked.

"Huh." You feel a smile slowly spreading over your face, turning your head without looking away from the tree. "Hey, dumb and dumber."

Azriel snorts softly.

"Who's who?" Cassian appears next to you, crunching his nose to suppress a sneeze as he offers you his elbow to hide your freezing hand in.

"If you gotta ask,", Rhys mumbles from Azriel's other side before dodging Cassian trying to kick his shin, his nearly violet eyes twinkling when he smirks.

Not you, you mouth up at Cass and earn yourself a wide grin and a wink.

"What about that one?" Azriel threads his fingers through yours in his pocket, nodding towards the tree in front of you.

Both Cassian and Rhys tip their heads to the side in unison.

"Hm." Rhys doesn't sound as opposed as with every other tree that has crossed your way so far.

"It's big, but not too big, it's got character -" You shrug and look back and forth between them. "I think it's perfect."

"Let's check." Cassian lets go of you, and you're about to look up at him with a confused frown when strong arms wrap around your waist and lift you off your feet.

You squeak and sway and feel a deep chuckle against your back. You look up to find yourself face to face with the tree top, then you get slid back to your feet.

"Yup." Cassian straightens and pats your head. "Perfect height."

You scowl up at him.

"I mean, it's not as perfect as the first one -" Rhys gets cut off by three people groaning and snickers.

"But it's pretty close, so -"

"Thank God,", Azriel mumbles into your hair, and you giggle.

you go home with the tree and a white amaryllis that'll hopefully be in bloom by Christmas and that you want to use as centerpiece for the dining table

Cassian carries the tree like it's not a foot taller than him and probably just as heavy

that weekend, you put it up

Rhys and you bicker about the best way to detangle the ball of fairylights

by the time you're finished and turn towards the tree, Azriel holds up one end of the neatly laid out fairylights with a deadpan look

it takes some more bickering about the perfect way of wrapping the lights around the tree until the huge fir tree is twinkling from every angle

and then little by little, you distribute all the the baubles and ornaments evenly

Cassian is responsible for the top branches and you, begrudgingly, for all the ones at the bottom

the whole slightly chaotic endeavour is accompanied by the sound of Christmas music, hot chocolate and the crackling fireplace

when you're almost finished, Cassian lifts you up, completely ignoring your soft squeak, and Rhys hands you the tree topper

the golden star goes right on the top, and then you're done

that evening, you all just sit and stare at the tree

it's magnificent and slightly chaotic

really mirrors living in the flat, you think

and with the tree up, all the festive activities can truly begin

you bake gingerbread cookies, happy to huddle up in the warm kitchen as it progressively gets colder outside

you go gift shopping with Feyre and Mor, who get along like a house on fire

when Feyre drops you off at home after and helps you carry your bags upstairs, Rhys opens the door

you're pretty sure the blush in Feyre's cheeks does not stem from the cold

even as she huffs at Rhys' blatant flirting

you get dragged out for another round of gift shopping with Cassian a few days after

it ends with the two of you buying a dutch oven for Rhys and almost forgetting it on the Christmas market when you stop for mulled wine and food on the way home

since Feyre is going home for the holidays, you have a little celebration the second weekend of December

you kick the boys out of the flat for the evening

the two of you make a whole small roast, dancing around the kitchen to Christmas music and have dinner in the living room

the tree is lit, and the first presents have found their way under it, all wrapped up more or less craftfully

you watch classic christmas movies and eat on the couch

when the boys get back later that night, the both of you are so full and happy, Feyre actually beams at Rhys in passing

you think he might faint

after saying goodbye to Feyre at the door, you turn, and he still stands in the hall, looking a little dazed

when he glares at you like a silent "not a word", you grin and tackle him in a hug

bc

he's adorable

the day after (probably in an act of revenge on Rhys' side), the both of you engage in a gingerbread house building competition in your kitchen

there's Christmas music, hot chocolate and containers and bowls with icing and dozens and dozens of different decorations spread all over the counter while you set up camp at the kitchen table

when Cass and Azriel come back from the gym and their own Christmas shopping in the late afternoon, the kitchen is absolute chaos

and Rhys and you have switched from hot chocolate to mulled wine and are slightly tipsy

both Cass and Azriel lean into the doorframe, staring at Rhys and you as you giggle and bicker, trying to kick at each other under the table

you're a little dishevelled, wearing a pair of wide pyjama pants, fuzzy socks and a loose t-shirt, your hair a mess and specks of icing all over your nose

Rhys looks equally unkempt for once, slightly flushed and violet eyes twinkling as he grins, icing on his dark t-shirt

when evening rolls around, you're completely exhausted

but both of your houses are standing

they are a bit wonky

but very pretty

complete with white icing, windows made from melted candy, roof tiles and cotton candy for smoke rising from the chimneys

Mor, who drops by that evening, acts as impartial judge and rules a tie

neither you nor Rhys really are too bothered by it

you're mostly proud they've not collapsed into heaps yet

Rhys smushes your face between his sticky hands and leaves a smacking kiss on your forehead that ends the competition before calling dibs on the first shower

and Azriel decides, when you crawl onto the couch where he's already sprawled out on the cushions and bury yourself in his chest, your body aching and feeling sticky

that even though he doesn't really care for sweets

you smelling like gingerbread and icing could make him come around to it

he doesn't say it, but when he wraps his arms around you and drags you up his body, curling around you to bury his face in your t-shirt and humming, you decide that this is definitely becoming a tradition

(even tho the next few days, Rhys and you get nauseous at just the sight of anything sweet)

the closer you get to Christmas, the more giddy you get

Azriel takes every chance he gets to crowd you under one of the many twigs of mistletoe Rhys has snuck into every possible spot in the flat and kiss you until your heart nearly gives out and your knees are jello and you can feel his lips curve against yours

to be fair, the other two don't really hold back either

Cassian has the time of his life leaving smacking kisses onto the cheeks and foreheads of whoever ends up under a sprig of mistletoe next to him

it's cause to different stages of crunched noses and huffs

from amused (Rhys) to fits of giggling (you and Mor) to grumbling (Azriel)

and Rhys likes to dramatically pretend he's about to smooch the shit out of you, sweeping you up and dipping you back and everything, causing you to break into fits of snickers and Azriel to roll his eyes

you're pretty sure to see his lips twitch tho

you go to the Christmas market a few more times

with Rhys, because he wants to sample every food that's sold there and you would never pass up a chance to eat and gossip

then with all the boys and Mor, on an icy cold evening, to look at the decorations all over the shops and drink mulled cider

it's so cold you're permantely glued to Azriel's side, your fingers laced with his in his pocket, your arm wrapped around his elbow

he lets you slide into his coat as far as possible when you're waiting for the hot beverages, his chin resting on your head when you bury your face in his chest, his lips pressing against your forehead when you peak up at him, nose pink from the cold

the way he's staring down at you makes your heart hop and swerve, and Azriel's lips twitch

then, a few days before Christmas, Mor turns up and takes you ice skating

it ends in giggles, the two of you holding onto each other and singing aloud to the Christmas music from the speakers

you get waffles and hot chocolate after and Mor drags you with her into several clothing stores because she still doesn't have an outfit for the celebrations

it's when you decide she's gonna sleep over on Christmas Eve

because the thought of her going home in the evening and then coming back on Christmas Morning is just ridiculous

and when you promise she can sleep in your bed, all by herself, Mor beams

"okay!"

(you'd be sleeping in Azriel's room anyway)

the boys don't mind

quite the opposite

Rhys actually huffs bc he didn't think of it earlier

you have Christmas movie nights, with snacks and gingerbread and hot chocolate, the tree glittering and the smell of pine making your heart skip happily

gingerbread decorating competitions

and evenings where the fire is crackling and you are curled up against Azriel on the couch, reading with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and lips absentmindedly pressing against your temple

and then the afternoon before Christmas Eve, you take advantage of having the flat all to yourself and lock yourself in your room to wrap all your presents

in the end, you're sitting on the floor, surrounded by paperscraps and bows, with sticky tape on your forehead and a small heap of presents in front of you

wrapped to the best of your abilities and carefully labelled

they go onto the growing pile of presents under the tree, and you award yourself with a bubble bath

(wrapping gifts is hard, okay?)

you got the Dutch Oven you bought for Rhys with Cassian, along with a pair of purple fuzzy socks (mostly so he stops stealing yours) and fancy pickles

the guy has weird interests

Cassian's boxing gloves have seen better days, so you and Mor got him a new pair, with his name embroidered in deep red stitching at the wrist

you also bought him a set of hair care, after he once accidentally used yours and was in awe about how soft it made his hair for a solid three days

for Mor, you found a small shop on etsy that makes custom jewellery with recycled materials

you got her a necklace with a little charm with a little deep red stone and a matching bracelet, both dainty and slim

as well as a kit for a fancy bubble bath

as for Feyre, she already got her present a few days before and now lugs it home with her

you and Mor bought her a set of fancy oil paints

you also got her two mugs

one says coffee

the other paint water

you hope it means she stops accidentally poisoning herself

as for Azriel

his gift makes your heart hop with nerves

on Christmas Eve, Mor comes over, and Rhys whips up a three course dinner

you eat in the kitchen, Mor and you occupying the couch and giggling into your wine glasses

then you move to the living room and watch Home Alone

at 11, you all suddenly feel the need to move

so you bundle up with coats and scarves and hats before piling out of the flat

outside, it's so cold, your breath rises in thick white clouds

you take a long walk around the neighbourhood, looking at the lights and decorations everywhere

some people have wrapped their outside trees and bushes in fairylights

some have hung stars that light up porches, balconies and windows

you're actually not the only ones on a walk

there are still quite a few people out, probably with the same idea as you

you walk next to Mor, your arms linked together and awing softly at the glimpses you catch at decorated living rooms and twinkling trees

Rhys and Azriel are behind you, talking quietly between themselves

and Cassian is walking a little bit ahead of you, sniffling against the cold air, ridiculously broad in his thick jacket, a hat pulled over his head and seemingly lost in thought

after a while, you let Mor fall back to the other two and catch up with him

shivering happily, you wrap your arm around his and bump your shoulder softly into his side

"you okay?"

your voice is soft, and when you look up at him, your heart does a little warm pulse

because Cassian, big, vibrant, boisterous Cassian is completely quiet and calm

he looks at the houses with the lights and the twinkling trees in the living rooms, and one corner of his lips tips up gently

"yeah."

as you're staring up at him, something's suddenly swelling in your chest, making it hard to breathe

bc for one second, the only thing you see is a very little Cassian, alone in an orphanage on Christmas

you really try not to allow the sudden pressure behind your eyes to surface

but then Cassian looks down at you and gently bumps his elbow into your side, grinning softly

"got my family."

and that pressure spills over and with it the tears as your chin wobbles and your chest aches

"duh", you press out, voice weak and trembling, and Cassian smiles, bigger and crooked

you realise what that look on his face is when he tucks you into his side and lets you bury your face in his jacket until the tears have died

complete peace.

"Hey."

The quiet, deep voice travels through you, and you shift, grumbling quietly.

There's a soft breathed smile, then warm, rough fingers brush over your cheek, and lips press against your forehead. You can feel them move when the familiar deep voice, soft and rough with sleep, vibrates through you and causes shivers to run over your spine.

"C'mon baby, wake up."

Your heart does a little skip, and the warm haze of sleep slowly slips away. You exhale slowly, then you force open your heavy eyes, and something in your chest rises in a soft flutter.

Azriel's face is only an inch away, all sharp cheekbones and soft lips and tired eyes, and something in your chest dips over at the sight of his warm amber iris dragging over your face.

"Hi,", you mumble, voice thick and raspy with sleep, and the corner of Azriel's lips tips upwards, causing your heart to rise.

With a quiet sound, you shift closer, your arms sliding over his bare shoulders as his dip and wrap around your waist, pulling you into his body until one of your legs drapes over his hip and you're completely pressed together. There's something shifting at the back of your head, keeping you from just burying your face in the warm crook of his neck and going back to sleep -

Your heart misses a beat, your eyes dart up as suddenly, a flutter builds in your chest, and Azriel's lips curve, up and up until his cheek creases.

"There it is." His voice, deep and low, husky with sleep and vibrating with a hint of amusement, sends your heart tumbling as his gaze drags over your face. Then he blinks, and something softens in his eyes, a slow twinkle growing in his iris as his gaze drags over your face. One corner of his lips curves upwards.

"Merry Christmas,", he mumbles, low, deep, and steady.

If your heart hasn't stopped before, it definitely does now, and you need a couple of seconds until it works again. Then a smile spreads over your face, slow but growing until it is ridiculously wide.

"Merry Christmas,", you whisper back, breath hitching and voice thick with sleep and something pulsing and swelling under your ribs.

The twinkle in Azriel's eyes grows; your breath hitches when he dips his head, and something tipping over in your chest when he presses his lips onto yours, warm and slow and unhurried.

He only pulls back once he coaxes a soft sound breaking from your throat. Your heart is thrumming and one corner of his lips has curved lazily as he stares at you, a few strands of hair curving over his forehead, the rest so tousled, you just can't resist burying your fingers in it as warmth spreads through your body and your hearts start fluttering as giddiness starts spreading through your chest.

Slipping your arm tighter around Azriel's neck, you pull him down to kiss him again, deeper and firmer and causing your breath to shudder and Azriel to groan softly. His hand slips under your hoodie, palm slowly roaming up your back with the softest pressure, pushing your closer.

When you pull back, breathing shakily, warmth rushing through you and gather in your cheeks, Azriel nudges his nose against yours, a soft rumble building in his chest.

"Sleeping in on Christmas morning, so rebellious,", he mumbles, and you lightly kick his shin, causing a tired smirk to spread over his face that makes your heart topple and still.

Oh.

Azriel is about to pull you back in and roll you over when suddenly, the door bursts open.

You jump, Azriel huffs and rolls his eyes, and when you crane your neck to look over your shoulder, Cassian is standing in the doorway, only wearing a pair of checkered pyjama pants, hair pulled back haphazardly and grinning wildly.

"Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals. Get your asses out here." He winks. "It's present time."

knowing that he is not going to let up, you grumble and dig yourself out of your blankets

your heart starts hopping as you pull on some pyjama pants and fuzzy socks

Cassian hugs you so tightly, you can't help but fall into a fit of giggles when he lifts you off your feet with a dramatic groan

squeezing you for a solid few seconds in which you squeeze him back with all your might, he lets you slide back to the floor and presses a kiss onto your cheek before letting you pass

Rhys and Mor are already in the living room

the giddy feeling in your chest grows when you sink into Rhys who's sitting on the back of the couch, squeezing his middle tightly and feeling him hug you to his chest, pressing a kiss onto your hair before he straightens and pats your bum

you press a sloppy kiss onto his cheek in revenge that makes his nose crinkle and a snort break from your throat

then you drop down next to Mor on the carpet

you feel like your heart is expanding to impossible sizes when she wraps you up in a ribcrushing hug and leaves kisses all over your face until you giggle

Cass and Azriel come into the living room, and Rhys hugs Azriel so tightly he huffs, but you can see the muscles in his arms straining when he hugs him back

Mor beams up at Az when sinks onto the floor behind you, squeezing her shoulder before he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your neck

and you feel like you might burst

you open your presents, with the tree glittering and the fire crackling

Rhys fangirls over his pot and the pickles

Mor gets teary eyed over the jewellery and leaves more smacking kisses all over your face

and Cassian actually looks like he might be speechless when he unpacks the boxing gloves

he wraps you and Mor up in a hug so tight, you're completely smushed together

you even get a selfie from Feyre with her mugs and a deadpan look that makes you giggle for a solid minute

it's Azriel you're really watching though, as he unwraps the last gift with his name on it

you see him still for a second before he pulls out a very old camera

you feel something twitch nervously in your chest

"I - found it at an antique store. I remember you showed me a similiar one and that you said how difficult it is to find one like it today." you grin lopsidedly. "I got it repaired, it's working again."

Azriel blinks

then he raises his head, and you're pretty sure your heart just stops

because the way he is staring at you is flaring and deep and heated and burning with something that causes your breath to stop

his throat works, and he carefully slides the camera back into its case and places it on the floor

then he reaches out and drags you over the floor until you're trapped between his legs

your heart gets stuck in your throat when his arm slides around your waist

your breath falters when his hand comes up to cradle your face

and the world stills when he pulls you forward and kisses you like it's the first and last time and there's no one else in the room but you

and he doesn't need to say it

you can feel it all in the way his breath shudders when he exhales and somehow pulls you even closer, until you're flush against his chest and your arms wind around his shoulders and he kisses you harder

only Rhys clearing his throat makes you remember you're in fact not alone

something dips over in your chest, and you can feel heat wash over you when you somehow manage to break the kiss, breathing harshly as your fingers dig into Azriel's hair

you pull back a little and look at him, just to really be sure, and your heart tightens at the way he's looking at you

kinda like you're beginning and ending and everything in between

something swells in your chest, begins rising, and you can't help it

you beam at him, your heart thrumming against your ribs, and Azriel drinks it in like he's dying of thirst

you somehow manage to turn in Azriel's arms, curling into him as you stare at your friends that bicker and laugh, and your heart swells when Azriel buries his nose in your hair and holds you like he's not planning on ever letting go

after unwrapping, you have a big, fancy breakfast in the kitchen, with waffles and pancakes and eggs and bacon

you sit curled up in one corner of the couch, with Azriel behind you, chest in your back and arm wrapped around your waist

you spend the day all together

watching Christmas movies, playing boardgames

Rhys drives you all into bankruptcy at Monopoly, twice, and you beat Cassian at trivia (again)

when it gets dark in the afternoon, Rhys disappears into the kitchen, and Mor drags the rest of you to a classical Christmas concert in a church nearby

you all sit together, Azriel and Cassian flanking you and Mor, Azriel's fingers linked with yours

when you inevitably get teary eyed towards the ending, Mor squeezes your other hand and sniffles

when you get back to the flat, you're met with scents more delicious than anything you have ever smelled before

your stomach grumbles, Cassian groans, and Rhys appears in the doorway to the kitchen and grins

"to the table, please"

to say he went all in would be too little

he supplies you with a whole seven course dinner

soups, salads, a whole freaking goose, and two kinds of dessert that make your mouth water even though you already feel like you won't be eating anything until next Christmas

the whole living room is lit

the tree is twinkling, the candles are flickering and the fireplace crackling

Cassian's rambunctious laughter mixes with Mor's ringing giggles and Rhys' deep laughs, and Azriel sits next to you and grins, his arm draped over the back of your chair that he has pulled so close you can feel the side of his body pressing against yours

and you think that maybe, making new traditions was the best idea you ever had

it's really only topped by your decision to move into this flat.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123 @ailyr92

[dearly-somber]

Naked | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, eventual romance, fluff, pining, f2l (friends-to-lovers), eventual smut, humor, angst, drama

-> w/c. 1729

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. Thank you all so much for the love for this couple, y’all have motivated me a lot and I can’t put into words how much I appreciate it <33

-> warnings. suggestive; a lil’ ✨angsty✨

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:25

-> fin. Mon., Jul. 30th, 2022 @ 23:27

-> edited. Thurs., Oct. 9th, 2023 @ 12:33

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Finding out that your best friend turns into a glorified dog isn’t something you had on your bingo card this year.

You were staying over at Jungkook’s house to finish a History project worth 25% of your final grade, but you ended up falling asleep halfway through. (Oops!)

When you woke up, it wasn’t to the annoyingly smug expression of one incredibly chuffed Jeon Jungkook, but to the silky smooth fur and wet-nosed touch of a fully grown wolf.

You screamed like a shower victim in an 80s horror movie and fell off the bed with a painful thud, the wolf peeking over the edge of the bed with a strangely concerned yip. You screamed again and pushed yourself to your feet, booking it downstairs two at a time (a maneuver that would’ve cost you your life any other day) before slamming into Jisoo halfway through the living room. You held onto her arms with wide, frightened eyes.

You were on the verge of tears, panicking to Jisoo about how “there’s a fucking wolf in Jungkook’s bedroom and oh god I think it ate him oh my god,” when Jungkook barreled down the stairs while pulling a crinkled black tee over his stomach.

Jisoo glared at the maknae, looking pointedly at you (Lisa had taken hold of your shoulders and tried helping you through breathing exercises) and then back at him, her hands on her hips. “What happened?”

Jungkook looked between the two of you, a particularly pained look crossing his face at your glossy eyes and heaving shoulders. “I’m— I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he mumbles.

“You couldn’t just fall asleep normally?” Jisoo snapped exasperatedly, ignoring your confused back-and-forth looks.

“He wouldn’t stop whining and making a fuss and I didn’t think she’d wake up so soon!” Jungkook yelled desperately, looking nearly as upset as you felt.

“Wait, wait, wait. You guys are—where’s the wolf?” you asked incredulously, wiping furiously at your eyes as you strode forward to stand next to Jisoo.

“He’s—he’s not out anymore… And he wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” Jungkook said, stepping toward you with his arms open. You took a panicked step back, confused and scared and so, so lost.

“Are you telling me… Are you a werewolf?”

“Shifter,” Yoongi corrected from where he was lounging on the couch (you hadn’t noticed him in your panic). “Why do you humans always assume we’re werewolves?”

“You shapeshift into a wolf. That makes you a werewolf,” you sassed, quickly backing away at his intense, annoyed glare.

Jisoo sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath before turning an accusatory glare on Jungkook. “Take your friend upstairs and explain to her what’s going on. I’ll talk to Namjoon.”

Jungkook nodded obediently, a solemn look on his face as he reached for your wrist so he could tug you upstairs, wincing back when you flinched away from his touch.

He clenched and unclenched his fingers before dropping his hand to his side, beckoning you to follow him. “C’mon. We should talk.”

You sit with Jungkook on his bed, waiting for him to look up from his lap so he can finally explain to you what the fuck is going on.

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes drifting to his hands. He’s picking at his nails, refusing to meet your eyes. As confused and shocked as you are, you can’t let him get in his head. His crestfallen face does dirty-dirty things to your heart, banging it up for making him look so sad.

You take a deep breath and reach to hold his hands in yours. Jungkook meets your eyes, his lip wobbling at the soft, patient look in your eyes. You squeeze his hand encouragingly, smiling at the way his eyes light up hopefully at your acceptance.

He inhales shakily and closes his eyes. “Me and my family are shifters. We have full control over when we shift, and we share a close connection with our wolves. Our souls are connected to help with the transitions between wolf and human, a thoughtful gift from our ancestors.

“I moved to Seoul when I was fifteen to try and find my own pack, and I met Jiminie hyung on the train ride over from Busan. We met Yoongi hyung at the bus stop outside of the train station and he offered to help us find the hostel we booked. Somewhere along the journey he must’ve taken a liking to us, because we were moving into the pack house the next day.”

Jungkook laughed fondly at the recollection, the tenseness in his shoulders gone as he spoke to you normally. “We’ve been training ever since to get better at controlling when we shift. Among…other things.” He blushes.

“I didn’t mean to scare you today,” he whispers.

You bite the inside of your cheek. A shifter. That was his explanation for…everything. The affection, the borderline-obsession with your scent, why he’s staying with a bunch of strangers instead of his parents.

Surprisingly, believing him isn’t the hardest part about the new information. “You guys… aren’t dangerous?”

“No,” Jungkook denies firmly, his thumb running over the back of your hand.

“Is that why you’re so touchy? Because of the…wolfier part of you?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose at your choice of words, but smiles softly. “Yeah. Physical closeness is normal and integral to shifter relationships,” he explains. “We have this thing called scenting, which is basically a more…concentrated way of showing affection. It’s also a way to kind of…claim you, I guess. To show you’re part of the pack.”

“But isn’t scenting a thing only mated wolves do?” you ask, frowning at the implications that would have on your relationship.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, scenting can be romantic or plutonic. It’s dependent on where you scent,” he explains. “Couples usually do what we call ‘marking’, but I’ve heard about people who mark platonically.”

“Marking…as in?” You shift curiously. Shifter culture and biology is going to be something you ask a lot about, you think.

Jungkook blushes, avoiding your eyes as he clears his throat. Finally, he says, “Biting.”

“Biti—Jungkook,” you say, “you bit me a few days ago—“

He must hear the accusation in your voice because he frantically shakes his head. “No, no, no! That was play, I swear. Marking is much more… intimate.” Jungkook’s ears turn pink at the suspicious look you give him.

There’s a long beat of silence where you just kind of…stare at each other.

Jungkook can’t read you. He can’t help the tremble in his voice and the wobbling of his lower lip, looking at your intertwined hands. “You think it’s scary and unnatural, don’t you?”

“Jungkook…”

He smiles sadly. “It’s okay, I get it. We don’t have to be friends any—“

“Yah,” you furrow your brows with a squeeze of his hands, making him look at you. “I still wanna be your friend, Koo. This actually… explains a lot. It’s just a lot to take in,” you confess.

He still looks unsure of himself. And because you can’t stand seeing him sad, you shift toward him and bring your arms around his torso in a hug. He sniffles, burying his nose into your shoulder as his hands drift to the center of your back, clutching the fabric between his fingers.

It’s peaceful in his arms. Quiet. The only sound in the room is that of your combined breathing. Maybe he can even hear your heartbeat? You bite the inside of your cheek, patting his back gently. You wonder how it all works? They must shift pretty quickly, considering Jungkook had been downstairs only a minute or two after you. And he was pulling a shirt on when he was coming down the stairs…

“I don’t mean to be insensitive,” you pull away to look at him properly, “but what happens to your clothes when you transform? Do you like… do you get” —you gesture around vaguely, whispering— “naked before it starts?”

Jungkook snorts, his eyes glossy and cheeks pink. But, hey! At least he’s smiling!

He grins boyishly and shakes his head. “Way to ruin the moment,” he teases. “But uh, yeah. Our clothes rip when we shift, so we try to undress beforehand.”

“You’ve seen each other naked?“ you ask incredulously, eyes wide. Jungkook blushes pink at your reaction, nodding while sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Even… the girls?”

He whines, hiding his face in his hands. You gape at his pink ears, malfunctioning for a second. Jungkook’s seen boobs and ass. And probably more than that, too. You rub at your neck to distract yourself from the blush you feel crawling up your throat.

“It’s normal!” Jungkook defends himself, still blushing furiously as he waves his hands around wildly, pouting. “You’re making it weird…”

“I” —you gape at him— “what? You’re the one who’s seen your friends’ jun-mfh—“ you laugh into Jungkook’s hand as he smacks it over your mouth, yelling at you to shut up before they hear!

You laugh breathlessly and tell him that you’ll be quiet, reassuring him three, four, five times before he finally lets you go.

He sits back on his knees with his feet folded underneath him. “Let’s forget this conversation ever happened,” Jungkook says, shivering exaggeratedly to make his point.

You giggle and shake your head as your smile slips. You stare at him until he meets your eyes, and smile softly when he does. “Thank you for telling me.”

He nods, smiling down at his hands. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, basking in each others’ presence and getting familiar with this newly shared secret.

“Can I…” Jungkook nibbles his lip, hope shining behind his eyes. “Can I scent you?”

You snort, pushing his face away with a lighthearted smile. “Never in a million years, Jeon.”

“Bunny,” he whines childishly, righting himself into a sitting position after almost toppling off the edge of his bed before clasping his hands in front of him. “Please? I promise it’ll feel good!”

“Stop!”

“Yah, you’re the one making it sound weird!”

“Fine! I guess I’ll go tell your hyungs and noonas about how dirty their precious maknae i—“

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

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