#i put down remnants for the day

[hangingslothcentral]

how is it that despite having a whole season of show in rolling production and a whole season of another show in pre-production i am finding myself casting about listlessly since finishing this novel??

[unbearable-lightness-of-ink]

k babes reblog and tell me about the books on your nightstand (or wherever you stack books by your bed if you don't have a nightstand) what are they why are they there etc

[readwritealldayallnight]

When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.

The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.

“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.

“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.

Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.

When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.

Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.

“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.

“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”

“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”

At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.

Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.

“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.

“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.

“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”

“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.

“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.

“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”

Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.

“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.

The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).

Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.

“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.

“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”

“…”

“You what?!”

[tojisun]

so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly

thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.

it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.

they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.

it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?

simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”

and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?

if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—

it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.

“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.

“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.

simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…

nothing.

he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.

you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.

simonsimonsimon—

your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.

(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)

you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.

“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.

“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”

his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.

“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”

simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”

he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.

“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”

“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.

simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—

“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.

it’s so good! so, so good!

simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.

fuck! fuck—

sorta pt 02

[amiableness]

Kiss and Makeup

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better.

Word Count: 2829

Warnings: Jealous!James; kissing; and reader wearing heels, jewelry and makeup.

A/N 💌: A quick James oneshot that’s been on my mind, but I’m heavily consider making a second part to this.

As usual, thank you to @moonpascal for reading!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Go on, kiss and make up!” Sirius' voice trails after you as you hurry down the corridor, James close on your heels. On any other day, you might have tossed a playful jab back at Sirius, well-accustomed to his relentless teasing about you and James. But today, the weight of everything made your throat tighten, leaving you silent, your focus fixed on reaching the safety of your dorm.

The sharp click of your heels echoed off the stone walls, and James' muttering about your surprising speed in heels barely registers. Your anger simmers, blocking out his words as you storm ahead and shove the door open. James is right behind you, catching it just before it could slam shut in his face, determined not to let you shut him out.

“Get out, Jamie.” Though your voice was laced with anger, the way you used his nickname gave him a glimmer of hope. It wasn’t hopeless—there was still a chance to make everything better.

“I’m not leaving until we figure this out.” James says, stepping forward and leaning against the post of Lily's bed as he watches you roll your eyes and turn into the room. He doesn’t say anything as you begin furiously grabbing clothes and scattered heels off the floor—remnants of you getting ready for a date, now tainted by the tension hanging between you two.

“There’s nothing to figure out! You ruined my date, plain and simple.” You spin around, clutching a black heel in your hand, and for a fleeting moment, James braces himself, half-expecting you to launch it at him in a fit of frustration. But it’s you, his sweet best friend—the one who cares so deeply for others that you always put them before yourself. It’s a trait that drives James a little crazy sometimes, knowing you’d sacrifice your own happiness without a second thought.

The realization only sharpens the sting of your anger, an unfamiliar weight he’s not used to carrying. He can recall times you’ve been disappointed—maybe after one of his careless pranks or his thoughtless disregard for someone’s feelings—but never this. Never this level of anger.

“I said I was sorry.” He tries, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you scoff and turn away, angrily kicking off your heels. You bend down to pick them up, and despite himself, his eyes drift to the curve of your body. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he can’t help it—he’s never been able to take his eyes off you. And now, a bitter feeling twists in his gut, knowing you're dressed all pretty for someone else.

“You're not, though. Why the fuck did you feel the need to scare him off?” You toss the heels into your trunk and turn to face him, arms crossed. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die before they form—because he doesn’t know how to tell you the truth. He knows exactly why, but admitting it out loud would change everything between you. And he’s not sure he’s ready for that.

The silence between you stretches, heavy and unspoken, as you wait for an answer he isn’t ready to give. You both know exactly what you're waiting for—a proper explanation.

One you’ve been holding out hope for, quietly, for years.

“It's not fair, you know.” You let out a deep sigh, turning to face your desk, your gaze falling on the mirror. James watches as you begin to remove your jewelry, your back turned to him, but his reflection still catches glimpses of you. The anger in your voice has softened, but he knows that if he says the wrong thing, it could all flare up again, as sharp and sudden as before.

“What isn't?” He hesitates, watching you carefully as he takes a cautious step forward. His eyes follow the way your lips part in the mirror, the soft exhale of frustration escaping you as you fumble with your necklace.

He wants to step forward, to gently brush your hair aside and unfasten the clasp, to press a soft kiss against the back of your neck once the necklace slips away. But he can’t—so he remains still, trapped in silence, as he watches you instead.

“Why is it that you go out with girl after girl, but when I show interest in a guy, you scare him off?” You already knew the answer—weren’t blind to it. It had been clear to everyone that you and James had been circling each other for years, dancing around unspoken words.

But he refused to admit that he cared for you as more than friends. It felt pointless to tell him how you felt when it was clear James was intent on keeping you in the friend zone.

From the moment crushes became a part of your life, James had been yours. But you were never certain about his feelings—until that one night when he got blackout drunk and confessed he was in love with you. He has no memory of that drunken night, but you overheard him later, telling the boys he’d never drink that much again because he wanted to actually remember the parties he went to. You’d felt a pang of disappointment, but you were gathering the courage to confront him about it. Then, the next day, he hooked up with a girl from Ravenclaw, and just like that, all your resolve crumbled, leaving you feeling more invisible than ever.

He didn’t remember what he’d said, and if he was out with other girls, it was clear he didn’t care enough to mention it while sober.

That was a year ago, and you still hadn’t brought it up. 

So, to cope with the mess of it all, you went on a date—a rare one, the first in nearly a year. And now, here was James, wrecking it all over again.

“I—” He stops himself, clearing his throat, the tension in his voice betraying the lie before he even finishes. “I don’t think that’s true. You go out on dates.”

He knew he spent a lot of time flirting with girls—whether it was during class, when he should have been paying attention, or at parties where conversation flowed too easily. But when someone showed interest in you? That was a different story altogether. He’d like to blame it on the fact that you were his best friend, but deep down, he knew better. He was protective of you because he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking at you the way he did. Was it selfish? Definitely. But the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything.

“You know that’s a lie. You saw how excited I was! Why did you take that from me?” You were fully aware of how weak and accusatory your voice sounded, but you didn’t care. You were hurt, and it was clear in the way you shook your head, disappointment heavy in every movement. James watched your reflection, noticing the way you swallowed hard as if trying to shove down the swell of emotions threatening to break free. And with that, a wave of guilt slammed into his stomach, settling there like a stone.

“I just didn't want him to hurt you!” 

"So you decided to take that off his hands and hurt me instead?" You scoffed, making James flinched as if you had slapped him. It probably would have hurt less if you had.

“Merlin, no! Sweetheart, that wasn't what I was trying to do—”

“Then what were you trying to do, James? Because I'm getting tired of this little game, we have going on.” 

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes following your hand as you gently remove one of your earrings. For a moment, your gazes meet through the mirror, and the weight of it all presses down on him. He wishes, desperately, that you would just turn around and face him.

He was racking his brain, searching for the right words, trying to find a way to fix this. He considered stepping back, giving you space like he did when you got agitated with him. But this felt different. It wasn’t just about a moment of frustration—it was something deeper, something that could damage your friendship permanently if he didn’t speak up. He knew he had to fix this.

“You guys make up yet?” Sirius hollered, and James could practically picture him standing at the  bottom of the stairs with his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouted at the both of you.

Sirius' words from earlier echoed in his head as if they were taunting him, swirling around like a cruel mantra. 

Go on, kiss and make up.

It felt like an accusation, a reminder of how much he’d messed up. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, twisting in his gut. Every nerve in his body screamed that his next move would either make everything worse—digging the hole even deeper—or finally give him a chance to tell you why he’d ruined your date. But the fear of losing you pushed him forward.

“Tell me to stop, sweetheart.”

“Stop what—?” You ask, tossing your last piece of jewelry into the ceramic dish with a sharp clang before turning to face James. Your breath catching in your throat as he moves closer, and without thinking, you instinctively take a step back, bumping into your desk. The sudden movement rattles the items on top, sending a soft, anxious clatter through the room.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as James reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and James can’t help but think how pretty you look—more than he’s ever allowed himself to admit. 

He’s never been able to admire you like this before, not without the constant fear of you catching him.

His hands are shaky, and his proximity to you is making him nervous in a way that he couldn’t quite shake. But he didn’t know how else to explain himself. So, tentatively, he let his fingers graze your skin, admiring how you melted into him. He watches, heart pounding, as your lashes flutter and your lips part in surprise at the softness of his touch. The anger in your eyes had faded, leaving behind disbelief and something that looked dangerously close to hope.

He startles both himself and you when the words slip out, low and raw: “You make me so fucking nervous.” You blink up at him, silent, processing the confession. His gaze drifts over the mascara you’d carefully applied, the gloss glistening on your lips—details he hadn’t noticed before, but now felt like a punch to his gut. The jealousy flares, burning hot and fast in the pit of his stomach. It was devastating to realize you were all dressed up, and it wasn’t for him. Those heels, those glossed lips—they were for a guy who hardly knew you. 

Not like James knew you.

You part your lips, and James unknowingly silences you with a gentle brush of his thumb just beneath your lower lip. A soft, satisfied smile tugs at his mouth as he hears the gasp escape you. His hand rests on your left hip, pulling you closer, grounding you against him. The tension in the room thickens, and just like that, your anger has melted.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his voice low and thick with intention as he edged closer. His fingers caressing your jaw, tilting your face upwards, bringing you within a breath of him. The air between you crackles, heavy and charged, and you feel the pull—the tempting, intoxicating proximity. He was so close now, you could feel the warmth of his breath, and all it would take was the slightest movement for his lips to claim yours.

You thought about saying it—the words were right there, just on the tip of your tongue. But then his lips brushed against yours just barely, and everything else faded away. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no—not when this was something you’d wanted for years. Even with the anger simmering inside you, the frustration over James ruining your date, you couldn’t pull away.

Not now. Not when he was so close.

If anything, a strange sense of relief was starting to wash over you—relief that he had ruined it. Because if he hadn’t, it might have been another guy standing where he was now, and the thought of that made something tighten painfully in your chest.

“Last chance.” He mumbled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, searching for any sign that you might stop him. The only sound between you was the uneven rhythm of your breaths, erratic and heavy, pulsing with the desire that surged between you both. When you didn’t say a thing, no rejection, no hesitation—only the warmth of your breath mingling with his—he offered a barely-there smile before leaning in, his lips finally capturing yours with a slow, gentle kiss.

He started slow, cautious, as if afraid he might push you away. But the wrecked hum that escaped your throat—the sound of pure desire—told him everything he needed to know. You wanted this as much as he did.

It was overwhelming how quickly the kiss shifted—what started as sweet and searching, quickly turned frantic and hungry. The slow, deliberate pace gave way to a fiery urgency. The gentle brush of lips became a desperate meeting of mouths as the two of you gave into years of pining.

Your hands, which had been gripping the edge of the desk hard, moved slowly toward him. You let your fingers trail up his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges before reaching his chest. Your other hand found its way into his curls, you tugged softly, the motion pulling a low, pleasure-filled groan from deep within him. That sound, the sound of him unraveling, seemed to shatter something inside James. In an instant, he stepped closer—if that was even possible—until your bodies were pressed together, the heat between you two undeniable, consuming.

He pulled away just an inch, and the desperate whine that escaped your lips was enough to pull him back in, his arms circling your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the desk. You gasped his name, the sound caught in your throat, as his lips claimed yours again, urgent and hungry. One hand slid around your thigh, pulling you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours as he stood between your parted legs. His grip on your hip was firm, grounding, while his other hand found its place at the side of your throat, fingers warm and possessive.

You had never been kissed like this before. It was overwhelming—an all-consuming heat that ignited deep in your belly as James kissed you with a hunger, as if he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life.

And it was ruining you, because if this was how it felt to kiss James Potter, you never wanted to be kissed by anyone else ever again.

He rocked his hips against yours, the pressure making you gasp, and that breathless sound was all he needed. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you as if he couldn’t get enough. You were so completely immersed in him—the feel of his lips, the taste of him—that the low, teasing whistle from your doorway barely registered in your mind.

“Bloody hell, I didn’t expect you to actually go and kiss her.” Sirius’ voice rang out, loud and unfiltered. The words struck a panic through you, your body warming with embarrassment as you instinctively tucked your head into James’ chest, hoping to hide from the intrusion. You would recognize Sirius’ voice anywhere, and you knew you would be teased about this for ages.

James, with you still propped on the desk, remained a shield, his body pressed protectively against yours. He glanced over at Sirius and Remus, who stood by the doorway. Sirius, leaning against the doorframe, raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, while Remus stood next to him, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of awkwardness.

“Fuck off and shut the door, mate.” James groans, his arms pulling you tighter as he fights the urge to hurl a book at Sirius and Remus. Instead, he sends them a warning glare and brings a hand up to the back of your head, the heat of the moment still burning between you, and silently dares them to say anything more.

The boys hesitate, but not before Sirius calls out with a teasing smirk, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Potter. You finally got your girl.” And just like that, the door slams shut, leaving the air thick with tension and you cringing in embarrassment.

Maybe telling him you loved him wasn’t that pointless after all.

please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write and spread my work! 🤍

[ink-n-shadow]

Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.

Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.

NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—

MEDICAL LEAVE

𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending

"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"

you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.

john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.

"john—"

"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."

and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.

“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.

john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”

and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.

you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.

it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.

only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.

and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.

“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[hischokehold]

Pretty Please?

older!könig with a pretty girl who won't leave him alone.

"Hello, mister officer." Pretty doe eyes nearly melt in his, tilted up so sweetly just so you could meet his gaze. Arms locked around his, clinging so gently to his biceps like you have been for the past two weeks.

König grumbled, barely taking a glance at you and your provocative outfit, teasing him. "Back for more, little girl? What did I tell you?" He tsks, baby blues barely evading your exposed cleavage pressed up against him.

"To focus on my studies. I am. Swear I am. Aced my exams, don't I deserve a reward?" You hummed, though he found your words rather hard to believe when you were so obviously checking him out.

You've been getting bold recently, haven't you, liebling?

It all started with a simple encounter, really; with König saving your drunken state from a group of men in his local bar. The perfect damsel in distress. He had pulled you by his hip, dragging you to the nearest bench to slip your glittery high heels right back into your feet. It was one of the rare moments where the colonel wasn't in the front lines. Still, he found himself a little pastime, using his influence to do some shady deals in the city's biggest club.

He didn't exactly expect to have such a cute thing clinging to him.

After a few minutes of listening to your rambling, cooing at you, König finally called you a cab and sent you off. A nice encounter, that's all it was.

Until he found you and your little self began throwing yourself at him almost every night, practically begging for his attention. "Just wanted to thank you for last time," You pout, batting your lashes at him. "Can't I do that?"

You could still see the remnants of blues in his knuckles from beating those bastards to a pulp. His big hands pat the small of your back in a reprimanding manner, shamefully reminding you that you were smitten by a man who you met barely a week ago.

"A thank you would suffice, darling."

König stood his ground. He had morals— what little he has left anyways. You're pretty, no doubt about that. He knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of such a fragile girl. But at the end of the day, he's just a man. Surely, you knew what would happen if you provoked him too much with your womanly charms?

"Y'shouldn't be playing around with men like me, little girl." He drawls, accent thick as he lightly taps your soft cheeks. Something clicked in you at the mention of the rather degrading pet name, pupils fully blown as you nodded at his every word, unable to register anything anymore.

An "I like you." comes from your plump, glossed up lips before you could even control it. Your 100th confession this week alone. Many would call you shameless and maybe you'd feel an ounce of it if you weren't so busy eyeing up his bulging biceps through his tight-fitted polo shirt.

He's intense, you think. And he makes you painfully shy.

"Hm?" He tilts his head, and he's so handsome, and gruff, and big that he has your mind spinning around in circles and doing backflips. Soft brows furrow as brutish hands cup your cheeks, lips puckering up into a small 'o'.

The tip of his tongue swipes down his lips while he indulges in the sight. A pretty girl, a young thing looking up at him all stupid and dazed out. Begging for an older man's attention. "How naughty." He tugs you closer, puffing cigarette smoke all over your pretty face, leaving coughing from the sudden intrusion in your nostrils.

He chuckles darkly, lightly patting the small of your back. "Be a good girl and run along, ja?" He flicks his cig to the side, putting its flame out with a stomp.

"N-No! please," you breathe, manicured fingertips finding your way to his belt, slithering along the lines. His eyes never leave yours, darkening as you inch closer to his manhood, leaving you dizzied.

There's hurried chattering in the background, a scantily clad group of three wore worried expressions on their faces, calling out your name.

"Ah, your friends are here, darling." You don't even have time to respond before he's nudging you out the dark alley, sending you off your merry wya but not before giving your rear a little slap.

"And keep that backside lookin' pretty for me."

[kingkat12]

you're my drug (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco

summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper

word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3

As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinement— it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole. 

The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?

Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me naked— now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.

But then again... I had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him. 

... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.

So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard. 

Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?

I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"

But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up. 

My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening? 

"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned. 

I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself.  Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.

This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything. 

I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree. 

Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?

Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.

As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion. 

There it was. A note?

I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen. 

It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;

messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx

My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already. 

Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?

I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him. 

We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers. 

But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me. 

And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.

I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer? 

The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"

Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"

My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.

The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"

His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time," 

I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me. 

I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes. 

Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed. 

It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.

However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one-- deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight. 

As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;

in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us.  can't wait to taste you xx

My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far. 

Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips. 

And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"

Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"

I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone. 

"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"

His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"

That's true-- "Fuck," was the only thing I managed to say. 

Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."

As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"

Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.

Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us. 

"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth. 

I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"

Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three," 

I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"

"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"

"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."

What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment. 

Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"

I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"

A hum.

"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"

Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"

"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness. 

"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"

I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"

"Definitely," 

I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. 

How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect. 

As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.

I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.

"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them. 

I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too," 

I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater. 

Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely. 

"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso. 

Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither," 

And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."

My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."

Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"

"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck. 

He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug," 

It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.

"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."

I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before. 

My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.

So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck," was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.

I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.

All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.

My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."

"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."

"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."

My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.

Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.

By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared. 

"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"

If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.

Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me. 

Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy. 

I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him. 

He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow-- exceptionally rare.

However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.

I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"

He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"

I could only sigh-- bliss. 

(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)

[cute-little-crow]

A seemingly innocent text message leads to a chain of events that turns your entire day upside down… who could have anticipated that?

Hey baby… I’m having the worst day at work. Everyone is really grouchy and I’m struggling to concentrate. Really wish I didn’t have to put up with this today. Sorry for being a downer, I hope your day is going better than mine!! Love you 💞

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, fluff, suggestive, roleplay of kidnap (reader is in no danger), mentions of bomb threats (not genuine and not condoned in the slightest), bratty behaviour (mostly Raf), faked medical emergencies, sorry if I missed anything, Zayne being the most rational of the bunch (obvs)

an: I’d be happy to flesh out and expand any of these if there is interest (especially Xavier’s cause his was real fun 😏) 💖

His phone pinged from across the studio, a sound he could never ignore, especially when it was the tone he used only for you…

With a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, he leapt gracefully from his stool and wiped the dusty remnants of dried paint from his fingers onto his trousers. The white shirt messily—although he might say, artistically—tucked into the waistband was already streaked with the hue of colours making up his latest creation, and a purple smudge darkened the tip of his nose.

Rafayel smiled when your name emblazoned across the screen, but it faltered as he hastily scanned the neat little rows of text. He was full-blown frowning by the time he finished, mood darkened by the idea that there were people in the world that could allow you to feel so badly.

Didn’t they know you were better than they were? That you hung the moon and the stars. Made the tides rise and fall. Without you, their world would be devoid of colour—how mundane.

He wouldn’t stand for it, he couldn’t.

For the next thirty minutes he planned out his strategy. Scribbling ideas down only to angrily score them through when he realised how ridiculous they were. He needed something simple, and most importantly, believable.

A sudden idea popped into his head and he set off before he could change his mind… poor, poor you.

~

You wish you had been exaggerating when you sent off that earlier message, but today truly had been a total clusterfuck. It was barely noon and already you longed for the clutches of sleep that would come when you were tucked up in bed tonight.

The sour mood of your colleagues was rubbing off on you more than you would like, and the dark cloud of negative energy only grew bigger and more dense until it was impossible to see an inch in front of your nose.

Tapping your pen against the edge of your keyboard, you stared where the words should be occupying your screen. A blank document stared back—mocking you. With a frustrated growl, you sank forward with your head on your arms.

“Oh, there you are! Why are you still here?”

The frantic voice of your boss took you by surprise, peering up before jolting upright in your chair.

“Where else would I be?” You asked tentatively, mentally wondering if you had somehow missed a meeting.

“The hospital!! Your boyfriend is in reception bleeding all over the desk! He’s refusing an ambulance and says he’ll only go to the hospital if you take him. Come on, hurry!”

Panic froze your heart. Terror turning your blood to ice in your veins.

Rafayel came into view and immediately, you knew. You were going to kill your dumbass boyfriend for pulling such a ludicrous stunt. What was he thinking and why couldn’t anyone else smell the overwhelming scent of strawberries from the syrup he was claiming was blood?

“My love… at last. I don’t know that I can hold on much longer, please, take my hands,” he enthused, rivalling the most hammiest of actors.

Your lips pursed, and his eyes widened. Despite it all, you played along if only to get the security guard and receptionist to calm down. Taking his sticky strawberry fingers into yours, you cooed in your best impression of genuine concern.

“I can’t believe you didn’t go straight to the hospital, Rafayel. You might have bled out in my office reception, let’s get you out of here. Does it hurt? No, no… I’ll manage,” you reassured the ashen looking security guard whilst squeezing Rafayel’s fingers in a death grip.

He squeaked out a groan of genuine pain, but he deserved it for causing such a scene at your workplace. His bottom lip stuck out in a petulant pout that was only visible to you, corralling him along until you were in the staff car park and able to shove him bodily into the passenger seat.

You kept up the pretence until you were out of sight of the building and any security cameras before pulling over into a side street and cutting the engine without saying a word.

“I was—”

“Trying to get me fired?” you supplied, turning in your seat and pulling wet wipes out of the glovebox by the fistful.

Rafayel continued to look petulant, but the sticky mess smeared on his cheek and neck as well as covering both his hands and the cuffs of his shirt were too ridiculous for you to stay mad.

You giggled, and he side eyed you—cautiously. “You look… good enough to eat, baby. Smell good too.” Leaning close, you licked through the mess of syrup streaked over his hammering pulse point and heard his breathless little hiccup.

“It wasn’t my best plan ever, but it got you out of work, right?”

It was hard to argue with that. You conceded with a nod, starting the engine once more and peeling back into traffic.

“Mhm, true, and you brought me dessert. It’s a good thing that strawberry tarts are my favourite.”

Sylus welcomed the distraction of his phone vibrating from the pocket of his trousers. He had spent the better part of his morning listening to those with more money than sense, bumble through negotiations he had no intention of seeing through to fruition. But even so, he liked to dangle the carrot and see how high he could make them jump. Call it an entertainment of sorts.

“This meeting is over,” he intoned flatly, quickly rereading your message a second time whilst his frustration tried valiantly to leak outward.

The room emptied hastily—much to everyone’s relief—and once alone with his thoughts, Sylus let out a long aggravated sigh. His nostrils flared. His fingers drummed a war song against the enamel of his desk.

He supported your independence with his whole heart but there were times, like these, that he wished you would simply quit and join him in running his growing empire. Whilst he understood your reservations, and he certainly knew that he would be rather indulgent with your time if you worked side by side, he was not purely driven by his dick—only sometimes.

“Luke. Kieran. Get in here,” he called out.

Mere seconds later the brothers appeared, inquisitive though it might be hard for some to tell given the masks. Sylus leant back in his chair, debating his course of action and whether or not you might just explode when he pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.

“Yes Boss?” The brothers said in almost perfect unison, mischief evident in their voices.

“I need a favour, and I want you to make it convincing…”

~

This meeting was akin to listening to nails being scoured down a chalkboard, and that was about the most polite way you could put it.

You chewed on the end of your pen, anything to distract from the presentation being blasted at you from the large projector screen on the conference wall. Around you sat your colleagues and superiors, most looking equally bored, although a few opted to sit straight backed and bright eyed—the kiss asses—as you referred to them.

The hands of your watch seemed to move at half speed and you couldn’t believe there was another full hour ahead before you could find some solace during your lunch break.

An alarm pierced through the monotonous voice of the presenter on screen, you and your colleagues glanced around in confusion as it sounded unlike any fire alarm you had been present for. You sat up in your seat, twisting around to see people scurrying past the frosted glass windows until someone crashed into the door as if they had run flat out to get here.

“We’ve received a report that there’s a bomb in the building! Everyone out. Now! Don’t be stupid,” the man who you assumed was a part of security yelled at the nearest girl who had asked to go back to her desk to grab her bag. “Exit quickly and calmly. Don’t go back for anything!”

For someone advocating calmness, he sprinted away looking the absolute contrary to his guidance, but you didn’t have time to muse on it when everyone started to push and shove out of the doorway.

It wasn’t long before the panic and hushed conversations behind hands from the meeting point nearly a block away died down to be replaced by angry tuts and speculation over what might have happened.

There was a growing sense that the call had been a hoax which put nobody in a good mood, and you couldn’t blame them. Your car keys were back at your desk so you didn’t even have the option to leave.

Thankfully, you had your phone and whilst you had been scrolling social media—which was blowing up with the bomb threat news—a message popped up…

Need a ride, kitten?

You glanced around, eyes narrowed for the telltale flash of crimson but found none.

Maybe I do… maybe I don’t. Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned.

Concerned? Why should I be concerned? There’s no bomb. Keep walking this way, sweetie, you’re getting warmer.

You stopped in your tracks, mind whirring with the implication of his words. He didn’t… he wouldn’t. Fuck, he absolutely would.

Did you call in a fucking bomb threat?! You’re insane!!

Your steps had taken you closer to the mouth of a side street, it was shadowy and you didn’t so much as see Sylus, as you did sense him. The hairs on your neck stood to attention and for all your storming anger, you couldn’t deny the desire and affection curling around you.

“No,” Sylus purred into your ear from behind, looming out whatever blind spot he had stalked you from to rub a hand up your arm. “I didn’t call it in…”

“So it was Luke and Kieran, those two pests probably laughed themselves sick once it was done.”

Sylus tsked gently. He drew you carefully into his chest and kissed the crown of your head, happy to be reunited, even if it was the result of foul play. “Let them have their little fun, kitten. You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”

It was impossible to stay mad, it was really was. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheek until you could claim his lips, slow and deliberate.

“I hope you won’t pull these kind of stunts when we’re working together…”

His breathing stalled at your quip. Vermillion eyes searching yours for deceit or misplaced humour and finding nothing but truth. Sylus smiled…

“That’s a promise I can’t make, sweetie. But, I can promise you won’t regret your decision for a single second.”

Boredom was not something that Xavier handled well. He needed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of the fight or the total blankness of deep, uninterrupted sleep.

So, perhaps it was serendipitous that you should text him at the precise moment he was ready to tug on his hair with the lack of activity. His smile was short-lived as he read the message, wishing he could somehow help.

Is there a way I could help, my starlight?

Xavier stared at his phone for a few seconds, willing the little bubble to appear that signalled your imminent reply, but after a little longer, he tossed it away and closed his eyes.

A ping made one eye crack open.

Not unless you know someone willing to kidnap me from this hellscape. Lol! Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive 💪🫰

He laughed. What a silly notion. Unless… why was the idea growing on him the longer he thought about it?

Did it make him depraved to want to fulfil that role, safe in the knowledge that not a hair on your head would be hurt in the process because he would be the one pulling the strings?

I mean… never mind. Lemme know if you change your mind. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do today. See you soon, pretty…

~

Your fingers flew across your keyboard, and to the casual observer it would seem like you were deeply engrossed in your work. The truth was that you were gossiping with a work friend over the IM chat feature.

Stretching your arms overhead, you tilted your neck from side to side until you heard a satisfying pop. It was going to be a long afternoon of very little to do. Maybe you needed to pace yourself if the workload was going to continue being this light?

You decided that some soda might cheer you up, so you took the short trip to the break room and happily procured the last can of your favourite flavour. It wasn’t until you were resettled at your desk that you notice the pink post it note on your screen.

Come to the supply closet. I have something for you.

The old adage of ‘curiosity killed the cat’ seemed to be lost on you as you trotted the short distance to the store room in question, wondering if maybe your friend wanted to continue your conversation without the fear of it being tracked. It didn’t even raise alarm when you discovered the small room in complete darkness.

“Tara? Are you in here?”

You tiptoed to the shelves in the very back, turning when you heard movement, only for solid lead to plummet into your stomach as a hooded figure dressed from head to toe in black stalked forward.

The lower half of his face was covered by a mask and the hood pulled low enough that you couldn’t see his eyes. You wanted to scream, to run or do something but your fight or flight failed to kick in. Instead, you backstepped right up against the faraway wall, watching as the man cocked his head and tightened his gloved fist.

You were inching around the perimeter of the room, closing in on the door and he was letting you. It was as if he were toying with you, waiting for you to make a move before he reacted. There was something unsettlingly familiar about his stature and the way he moved… but you didn’t have time to question it, it was now or never.

Lunging for the door, you made your move but he was faster and stronger. One arm wound around your middle whilst the other hand came up to cover your mouth, the scream in your throat trapped. His body was radiating pure heat whilst you thrashed to escape.

“Calm yourself…”

Only half aware of the words, you more heard the voice and confusion blanketed your thoughts. Your struggling lessened and you thought you heard him chuckle in response.

“You wanted to be kidnapped… right?” Xavier teased, carefully removing his palm to listen to your panting breaths.

“Xav—”

“Ah ah. Hush now. You’re not going to struggle. You’re going to walk with me to your desk, grab up your things and come with me without making a scene.”

Why were you so flushed? Why were your legs trembling from something other than fear? Did your heart have to pound quite so loudly? It might have been a joke earlier but somehow being kidnapped by Xavier had become one of the hottest things to ever happen in your life.

You nodded your agreement, accompanied by a soft whimper and he pulled you back against his body for a moment before releasing you. It was long enough that you could feel the growing bulge in his black sweats. The thought of keeping him in here flitted through your mind, but he was nudging you forward before you could let the lewd thoughts slip past your lips.

“Once we’re out of here and no one is watching…” you purred, letting your hand graze down the length of his stomach and stopping deliberately at the waistband of his trousers. “I’m going to make a break for it, I hope you’re ready to chase me.”

Xavier chuckled, dark and predatory.

“I won’t stop until you’re struggling beneath me, my starlight.”

For the first time in what felt like years, Zayne had a scheduled day off on a day you were due to work. You assured him that it would fly in if he simply allowed himself to relax, but here he was… staring at the wall.

It was barely 10am and every chore Zayne could think of had been taken care of. He even had time to start some dough for a fresh loaf of bread, the batch slowly proofing beneath a dish towel in the kitchen.

He had half a mind to go into the hospital and put his time to better use. At least he would be able to achieve something instead of sitting here, wishing you were beside him. Empty hours wouldn’t feel so bad if you shared them. He never felt bored when you were here.

Zayne’s phone thrilled from the coffee table and one glance told him the message was from you. Expecting a cute little reminder message that he was to rest and relax, he was not anticipating what he read.

It wasn’t like you to complain unnecessarily, especially because you genuinely enjoyed your job, so he knew that it had to be rough for you to send that message.

Can I help?

When you didn’t reply, he went to check on his dough to distract himself from thoughts of you, miserable and feeling demotivated.

I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer. Might skip movie night if you don’t mind… think I’ll go to bed when I get home.

Well now, that was simply unacceptable. Zayne knew from experience that denying your emotions never solved the issue, and clearly he needed to remind you of that.

~

There was a knock on your office door. It jolted you upright from where you were slumped over your desk feeling defeated. A courier peeked inside with a sheepish smile and confirmed your name. Once he was satisfied, he produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a frosted glass vase.

“These are for me? Are you sure?”

“It’s your name on the card and on the order slip… so yep! Enjoy your flowers, miss.” The man gave a short salute and left you to admire the beautiful blooms.

Your fingers stroked the velvet petals of midnight pansies and silvery lilies. The smell was gentle and sweet, much like the smile adorning your face for the first time today.

You didn’t need the little card tucked into the display to know who they were from and immediately you pulled out your phone and pressed the call button.

“Do you send flowers to all your patients, Dr Zayne?”

Zayne hummed, thoughtful for a second. “Only the ones that have captured my heart.”

Your grin only widened, he was so sweet.

“I don’t know if you realise how much this has brightened my day, you darling man,” you admitted with a soft sob.

The sound of traffic on the other end of the line caught your attention, and you wondered where he might be if not at home. As if sensing your question, Zayne provided the answer unprompted.

“Then I guess taking you out to lunch might be considered overkill?”

“Wait, what?”

“Look outside,” he cooed.

You nearly stumbled out of your chair in your rush to approach the window that looked down on the busy streets below. From your vantage point you could make out a man with a head of midnight hair leaning casually against the trees in the courtyard. Your breath hitched when Zayne glanced up to where he knew your office was located and tipped his coffee cup in your direction.

“Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to want to come back after we eat,” you grumbled honestly.

“That’s fine. I planned on you having a minor allergic reaction that will require personal treatment. I already have the story planned out when I call your boss in an hour.”

This man thought of everything and right now, you were eternally grateful of that. Smothering your laughter behind your palm, you started to stuff your belongings haphazardly into your bag.

“Y’know what? I love you and every immaculately planned out thought inside that big wrinkly brain of yours.”

“… I love you too?”

“That was a compliment,” you assured him hastily, practically running for the lift.

“Oh. Well, thank you, darling. I’ll see you in a minute so I can return the sentiment correctly.”

[nappingmoon]

kento who was quite rough with you the night before, who doesn't notice the bruises forming. in the morning, you're making yourself a warm tea for your throat- adding honey to sweeten it a little- when your husband comes in, still sleepy and longing for your touch. he drops his chin into your neck, eyes fluttering closed as he takes in your scent, your warmth. kento snakes his arms around your waist, gently squeezing and about to lay a kiss to your cheek before interrupted by your gasp and the way all of your muscles seem to tense beneath him.

his arms loosen at once-- he's on high alert, and you curse yourself for not stifling your reaction more, certain of what is to come. "what's wrong? are you okay?" he asks eyes raking over your figure currently clad only by one of his t-shirts.

"nothing!" you say far too quickly, "jus' burned my finger on the tea, that's all." your eyes avoid his.

his eyes narrow, entirely unbelieving. his hands return to your waist, fingers splaying before giving a quick pulse. your eyes squeeze shut at the pressure upon the tender flesh and you know you've been found out.

"darling, was that me? i'm sorry, was I too rough last night?" he begins to question and the all too familiar furrow in his brow that always appears when he is concerned about you resurfaces. kento always feels guiltiest when remnants of any roughness from the night before are still there in the morning. hickeys are always in ample supply but whenever your rear still stings or bruises litter your hips and waist, your lover feels the need to coddle you, asking forgiveness for something you don't even hold against him.

"no, baby, I promise I loved every moment of it. i'm a little sore, but in a good way. every time I feel it it's a reminder of how much fun we had, how sexy my husband is when he lets loose." you finish with a little peck at his lips.

he's conflicted, but your words seem to soothe him. returning your kiss, he thanks you before tugging at your hands to bring you back into the bedroom. "alright, my love," he whispers. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself last night but let me put some cream on your bruises. don't want to have my baby in pain all day."

you hum in agreement as your led to your bed. he lays you gently on your back before settling down between your legs, fiddling with the hem of the shirt as he positions your legs to his liking. "wait, kento, the cre-" you begin, but trail off when he begins kissing up your thigh.

he will give you the massage you need and deserve, will take your pain away and smother you with love and kisses for the rest of the day, don't be mistaken. he just needs to give you a physical apology first, and maybe have a little breakfast at the same time. <3

[stargirlwithnolight]

I said goodbye forever to my dog yesterday. I think it still hasnt quite fully hit me yet. Like...not even in the sense that he's temporarily at the groomer or anything. Just. How can it possibly be real? How can this sweet boy, who has existed in this house for nearly an entire decade without fail, how can he be truly gone? What do you mean I'll never hear the click of his nails on the hardwood again? What do you mean I won't have to gather him up in my arms to take him outside to potty anymore? I still half expect to find him just on the other side of the room, taking yet another nap, lost to the world.

It's like missing a limb, a bit, I think. Like missing a step you expected to be there. I'm used to not always being the one to care for him but there's still a sense of...wrongness...to be in an empty house and not have to worry about what he's up to or when he last went out. And every time I feel that wrongness, and it's deep in my heart every time, I can't help it. I start to cry. It's like a fresh loss every single time.

I know everything will eventually dull. That I will eventually stop wanting to cry every time I drop a chip on the floor and have to remember to pick it up and throw it away. That eventually I'll stop coming home with the question of "where's the puppy?" ready on my lips. But right now it feels so distant, so far. Right now all I can think of is how much I miss him. How much I wish I could run my fingers through his hair again, press my thumb to the spot between his eyes just one more time, and give him a kiss on the forehead. All I can think of is how we just left him there, lying on the examination table, completely still and alone, eyes still open. I want to go back to that room, that moment, so badly. I want to gather him up into my arms again and carry him home with me. Cry into his fur until he comes back to me, ready to give me kisses with his stinky breath.

One day I'll look back on the end of his life without crying. One day the ache of missing him, even missing the young him from years ago that was long gone by the time he died, one day it'll be mostly gone. But right now I still have so much love, so so much love, to give but he can't receive it anymore. So that love overflows into grief, into heartbreak.

[changisworld]

“You’ll like it,trust me”

word count:3,301

summary:Your boyfriend, Hyunjin, knows how reactive you are to touches, especially on your clit. As he is drawing a certain frame of your pussy from a homemade sex tape you both made, he can’t help but admire the still image, but a thought crosses his mind. He can’t help but realise his fingers are a tiny bit clumsy sometimes on your clit, never touching just your clit, & this is when he gets his bright idea to use something… more precise to see if it will make a difference.

18+, MDNI! Smut below the cut.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

->SMUT WARNINGS: Soft dom Hyunjin, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, use of a paintbrush, fingering, spit, cum tasting, oral but its brief, praise, Hyune is just a cutie, mention of safe word but not used, begging, dacryphilia, PIV, creampie, aftercare is extremely brief but more happens off screen, this is literally 99% smut:3

Hyunjin is currently sitting in the living room, sitting in front of his canvas, using his favourite water colour paints that he is holding in his left hand as he dips his paint brush in the small glass of water, the colour a dark, musky bluey, grey colour.

He has his inspiration photo on his phone screen, balanced up on the small ledge of the wooden frame the thing he is painting on, the photo being a photo of your pussy.

In his eyes, it's not even a sexual thing, he just thinks it's so beautiful & he can't help but admire it, so why wouldn't he want to paint it for the millionth time?

He lightly swatches a violet colour & starts to paint your hood & clitoris with a careful hand, not even focusing to look at the photo anymore since he has it memorised better than how to spell his own name.

His white bristled paintbrush coated in the very faint colour glides over the canvas, he pauses for a second as he gets an idea that he thinks is worth a million dollars.

He looks down at the photo on his phone, your vagina still plastered on the screen & he uses the kitchen paper to dry the brush, the remnants of the paint leaving the brush & he doesn't pack anything away, leaving the living room with his mini station in a mess as he giddily walks to your shared bedroom.

He sees you just sitting on the bed with your back against the pillows & headboard as you're just reading a magazine you bought that day & Hyunjin plops himself on top of you, forcing you to put your magazine to the side of you & Hyunjin settles between your legs, your chests connecting over all of your clothes & he starts pecking your lips & cheeks.

"What's made you so clingy all of a sudden?" you ask, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his lips coated with a layer of lip balm sticking to each area he kisses & he pauses to look at you, pouting.

"I'm always clingy! You can't blame me, wanna be stuck to you" he replies, his voice soft as he now switches to shuffling down just enough so he can shove his face in your tits, covered by your shirt & just lays there as he reaches down to caress your thigh.

"I thought of something I wanna try, I think it will be good, can you lemme try?" he asks, his voice still soft as he buries his chin in your chest, looking up at you at a slightly uncomfortable angle.

"Who am I to stop you, you can try anything you wanna do, what is it you're wanting to try anyways?" you respond, stroking his long fluffy hair & twirling your index finger through his soft locks & Hyunjin can't help but chuckle as he stands up again.

"I'll be right back, its a surprise but I need you to want it too since I'll be doing it to you, take your.. my sweatpants off & wait here" he cheers as he runs back to his DIY art station & grabbing a long, thin & soft bristled paint brush that he actually hasn't had the chance to use yet, before returning to you & to his happiness, you've done what he said & you're now just left on the bed wearing your plain cotton panties & your shirt.

"Hyune, why are you getting me half naked with one random paint brush in your hand & no paint?" you joke as you sit up & cross your legs & he giggles at you as he sits down on the bed as he doesn't really respond right away & instead lies you down.

"I was painting you earlier & I was painting your pretty clit & I came up with the idea to try.. paint yourself with your juices? that sounds cringe but trust me! You're so sensitive it will feel soooo good, it might even be better than my fingers since I can be more direct." he whines, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice from actually saying this all out loud & when you look at his face & realise he's being serious, you can't help but start laughing.

"The look on your face when you're nervous is adorable, Sure, we can try, how do we do it?" you ask & he gives you his cheeky, cunning smirk. "Just take your underwear off & I'ma play with your little clit n try make you cum & then I can put it on my painting later, makes it even more personal, the idea just turns me on." he responds, his cheeks blushing as he helps you pull your underwear off anyway.

You nod your head & reach behind you & reposition the pillow & you sit it comfortably beneath your head & you're quick to open your legs for him, completely bare now except for the shirt you've kept on.

Hyunjin lays on his stomach between your legs, his legs swinging ack & forth as he litters a few kisses on each thigh, warming you up before he moves his hand that is holding the paint brush & he puts it in his mouth, transferring his spit onto the small hairs to make it feel that tiny bit softer for you before he brings it to your folds, before painfully slowly parting them.

You twitch beneath the brush, the sensation being so so different to anything you've ever felt, but different is good in your eyes & this proved your quote as true.

He drags the brush up & down your folds, gathering your juices & painting them across your entire pussy, the full area sticky with arousal. "How does it feel baby?" he questions, his eyes looking up at you as he doesn't stop his action, wanting to see your face on how you're reacting.

"Feels weird, but I really like it, don't stop" you murmur, basking in the feeling, relaxing as you melt into the bed. "Wasn't planning on it, gonna put it on your clit now, mkay? tell me how you feel" he purrs as the brush drags from your hole all the way up to your clit before he slowly starts swirling the thin, soft & now wet brush around your clit in small circles & you buck your hips & at the same time your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Shit, feels so- dunno, good" you rasp, your fingers gripping onto the pillow that tiny bit extra as you get used to the sensation & Hyunjin chuckles from where he is.

He twists the brush in his fingers & the bristles fully engulf your clit & your legs threaten to close around him, but he is quick to shut that down by stopping his hand to speak. "Don't shut your legs, just wanna be good to you so let me" he softly murmurs before resuming his motion, pulling back your pussy so now your clit is completely exposed & he can visibly see it pulsating.

He switches from twisting the brush in his fingertips to then circling your clit with the brush before dragging it down your folds for a few seconds just to not let you think he's forgetting about that area entirely before repeating the process & the noises from your throat are getting a lot more frequent & getting louder every second.

Little 'fuck's', 'shit's' & repeating his name over & over is all you're really saying, the sensation being mind numbing & you mentally slap yourself for never thinking of this idea on your own.

Hyunjin can see your cunt pulsating & clenching around nothing & Hyunjin bites his lip in anticipation. "You gonna cum, hmm? Can see you gushing n clenching" he teases, before continuing "Just let go, wanna hear n see you enjoy yourself, so pretty f'me."

"Yea, g'na cum, don't stop, please Jinnie" you whimper, back arching off the bed as you force your legs to stay open upon Hyunjins earlier request, your eyes scrunched closed & he just smiles at your words & starts kissing your inner thighs, not changing or disrupting his rhythm at all & your orgasm shoots up your spine as your legs shake around him & your toes curl.

"Good girl, look so pretty when you cum" he murmurs, his tone soft as he moves his face to now kiss over your raw clit, moving the brush back down to your folds & hole, the brush tracing your leaking hole which makes you try hump against it, not wanting to be teased even though you're only just coming down from your orgasm.

"W-was good" you whimper, your hand reaching down to cup his cheek as you rest your weight on the other am you're using to sit up with but your arm gives out & you flop back down when he spits down onto your pussy before sucking it back up, slurping your clit in his puffy lips as he looks up at you & you can feel him smirking against you.

He lets go of your clit with a small 'pop' noise & he groans. "Taste so good, you can handle one more, I'm having too much fun" He states, lust in his voice as he moves his frame so he's sitting at the side of you as he drags the brush back up to your clit & resumes his previous action but at a slower pace, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.. not at the moment anyways.

"S-sensitive Hyune, want a break" you whimper as he shuffles upwards so he is pretty much face level with you & you can smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne that you love so much & he just smiles at you.

"You can take it, you know the safe word if it's too much, remind me what it is please angel" he states, so confident in what he is saying he has a slightly sassy tone to it.

"F-fluff- Ahh, right there!" you whine & you buck your hips into the brush & Hyunjin leans down to kiss you, ignoring the uncomfortable angle of his hand but ignores it, instead, letting himself sink into the feeling & taste of your tongue, groaning into your lips.

He leans back just enough so your lips disconnect & he squishes your cheeks together to the point your lips part & he takes this chance to spit into your mouth, a small tinge of your own taste that he didn't already transfer into your mouth during the kiss being evident & you immediately swallow it & he blushes even more.

"So gorgeous, y'know that? So perfect for me, Love you so much" he conveys as he sits back on the back of his legs & pulls your leg over his lap, giving him better access & then reaches down to use his other hand to start teasing your dripping hole & you wince.

"Put em inside, want them Jinnie" you squeak & he wants to try tease you, but he has pretty much no self control left & he listens to your request instantly, as if he is being controlled by his very own siren.

He slips not just one but two fingers into you & his long, slender fingers find your aroused G-spot the second they slip inside, his knuckles being the only part that is visible as he starts scissoring them in & out of you at a semi quick pace, slowly picking up the speed as he also picks up the pace with the paint brush & your legs can't help but spasm.

"Hyunjin, w-wanna cum, lemme cum" you whine, your hips jerking almost as quick as his fingers are moving, dying for absolutely everything he can give you. "Cum then y/n, I wouldn't ever stop you, gimme it" he replies, his voice smug.

You can feel it bubbling up in your tummy, but you know it's not like the orgasm you had just a couple of minutes prior. "G- gonna squirt Jin, d-don't" you whimper, not wanting to squirt because your brain is already mush & it's always a hundred times stronger but that doesn't deter him at all, if anything, it pushes him to keep doing it a million times more.

"I know it's stronger, want you to be spent, it's so hot gimme it, please please, cmon angel please" he pleads with you & the second you hear how desperate he is for it, you can't not give him what he wants especially when he's being so good for you.

Your orgasm squirts out of you as you squeal, spraying onto the bed, Hyunjins knuckles & the entire paint brush, he is forced to pull his fingers out of you with how much you're constricting around him & he takes the time to suckle on his fingers, groaning at your taste as his eyes roll at the second it hits his taste buds.

"That's it, that's a big one isn't it" he smirks, his voice teasing as he encourages you, in awe at the sight of you as he slowly changes the angle of his body so he's back to sitting beside you again, watching you come down from your even more intense orgasm.

You are left on the bed panting, your eyes watering & a tear or two stained into your cheeks, the overstimulation burning so good & Hyunjin throws the paint brush to the side & leans down to kiss you, his hand softly playing with your tit over your shirt & your body can't decide if it wants more of his touches or if it wants to lean away from it.

"Do you think you can handle my cock jagi? Don't stress if not" he says softly, wiping the tears from your face.

"Wanna make you c-cum, can handle it" you respond & you feel as if your skin is on fire with his touch on your face, it's so simple but you can feel the love radiating from it.

"Just say your safe word if it's too much, don't want you completely worn out, I know I've taken a lot from you, love you endlessly" he murmurs & you want to cry even more tears but not from overstimulation but from how cared for you feel.

Hyunjin helps shuffle you from the now wet spot on the bed on the bed so you're now laying on your stomach on the other half of the bed & you take it upon yourself to raise your ass for him but he pushes on your lower back until you fall & you're laying flat on the bed & you can hear him stripping his own clothes from his body & he straddles the top of your thighs & you can hear the 'shlick' noises coming from him giving himself a few jerks & you can swear you feel beads of precum drip onto your ass before he aligns himself up with your hole, before pressing the tip into your hole, begging for attention.

Hyunjin fucks his tip in & out of you for a few moments, his eyes unable to get enough with the way your seeping opening is hugging his cock so tightly before he decides he can't wait any longer & fully pushes in & you both let out a groan at the same time.

"So tight all the time, definitely not gonna last long but I'll try hold out" he pants, forcing himself to try stay still so he doesn't fuck into you too fast, but you on the other hand, have grown far too impatient to wait to adjust, your wetness is far more than enough in your humble opinion & you start trying to fuck yourself on him, but you don't get very far & you grow frustrated.

"Hyune, please!" you whimper but he can't even bring himself to laugh at your attempt, far too horny to hold himself back & he starts fucking into you & you pretty much instantly start clenching around him as you let out loud squeaks & raspy moans, Hyunjin mirroring your sounds as you both feel his cock pushing against your cervix, the painful pleasure making you drool into the duvet you're laying on.

"So-so good Hyune, to-so deep" you squeal as he rolls his hips in a slightly but extremely evident angle, making you see stars & you can't help but start wriggling beneath him, feeling another orgasm already brewing inside you.

"S-stop clenching around me so much, g-gonna cum" he whimpers, his voice shaky as his eyes are glued to the way your cunt is stretching open for him & he lets a glob of spit land on your tightest hole just to watch you squirm, trying to take his mind off how close he is to cumming.

"Gunna pull out n cum on your p-pussy n will paint it over y-your folds, so fucking tight" he continues on as he leans forward so his back is connecting with your chest, but his pace doesn't falter.

He pushes the side of your head so you're no longer pressed face down & now facing him & you both meet half way & you both share a messy kiss, your tongues mostly around each others mouths & not in each others mouths, almost tasting each others sounds as those along with the squelching noises fill the entire room & no doubt the rest of the house.

"G-y/nn I'm gonna cum, can't stop" he almost fully squeals as he pulls out & turns you over with one arm, the other arm jerking himself off & the second you're lying on your back, he shoots multiple ropes of warm cum on your lower tummy, not in the right mind to be even slightly apologetic at the fact that your shirt is now gonna be stained with cum.

You can't help but whimper & moan along with Hyunjin as he orgasms, his gorgeous face is just too much for you to handle & too gorgeous to be mad at, even if he is currently messing on your clothes.

Hyunjin is left panting above you & you both try catch your breath. Hyunjin grabs the glass of water you have on your bedside unit & helps feed you it & you finish the remainder of the water before he puts the cup away.

You use the rest of your strength to try sit up to take you both to the shower but he decides against it & stops you & puts you back in the position you were just in as he reaches to grab the still wet paint brush.

"I didn't make you cum again & I said I'd.. what was it? I'd 'paint you with cum' & I don't lie, just one more." he purrs, his voice still shaky from lack of breath as he daps some of the cum off your shirt with the brush before dragging it across your clit, making you cry out, you have only just clocked onto how long of a night this is going to be.

->Anon list & taglist are open!

@jisungml

[maeumi-jng]

lipgloss and kisses

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: he watches you put it on and he loves to take it off.

warnings: fluff, skinship, suggestive-ish for hyung line except sunghoon, swearing, humour levels: bad, proof read ig

library: enhypen bookshelf

heeseung

one word. impatient.

heeseung obviously thought you looked good with lip gloss. in fact he thought you looked good in anything. lip balm, lipstick, lip oil, whatever that was... the reason behind it wasn't the product, it was you.

you just had such kissable lips. he had always thought so. even before you got together. heeseung liked you so much to the point any time you'd bring out some lip balm, all his attention would be focused on your lips. it was a bit strange, he couldn't deny that. but heeseung also couldn't help that you were just so captivating. the care you took to put it on, ensuring nothing escaped the borders and if it had, the swipe of your finger that tugged those pretty lips down... god... it was a lot.

honestly, you spent a lot of money on lip products. the reason? heeseung.

that man was always kissing you. on the bus, during your night routine, before bed, when you wake up, when you cleaned the dishes together, after being a part for a mere half hour....

and it wasn't just a peck. no. it was like heeseung was consuming you're entire essence. he would be breathing heavily, hand supporting the back of your neck to bring your closer if possible, kissing you as if he had been waiting a lifetime to do so. small gasps would fall from your lips while he nibbled down slightly, tugging and pulling at what was purely swollen by this point.

you lost more product than you put on. take now for instance because this is how it played out every single time. especially in the case of your stupid lipgloss.

you were getting ready for the day, adding your final touches. heeseung, who was only half dressed, still sporting his sweatpants from the night, had his arms slung around your neck, chin nestling into your collarbone, being his usual clingy morning self as you began to apply your lipgloss.

heeseung, finally registering you were putting on the lip gloss, whispered in your ear. "come on, a little faster, baby."

"hee," you whined, cheeks beginning to burn already. this was it. you could barely get through putting anything on your lips without him urging you to hurry up so he could kiss you. "stop! i always have to reapply because of you. i'm not going to kiss you."

heeseung just smiled softly, leaving gentle kisses on your neck. you sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain your focus. "why do you make this so difficult?" you mumbled, carefully applying the gloss to your bottom lip.

you could hear a huff of amusement slip out of heeseung's mouth. "you are one to talk... you know how i feel about your lips. yet you torture me every single day."

you suppressed your eye roll at your boyfriend's theatrics. "not my fault you're down so bad."

heeseung poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, now watching you finish up without a word to say.

you had barely put the wand down let alone in the tube when heeseung's hand gently travelled to your chin, turning your head slightly so he could duck down and bring his lips to yours.

your half-groan and half-squeal turned muffled. your grip around the applicator tightened as you fell victim to the very thing you had been trying to stop. not that you were trying hard or anything. the gasp you released when he nibbled down allowed him to make a mess of you, slipping his tongue in to mix with your own and dance with the rhythm of your heavy pants.

heeseung finally parted, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths. his finger tugged down your bottom lip, only little remnants of your lip gloss dotting it. he sighed with a small smile. "you were right. i am down bad."

jongseong

the first time jay saw you apply lipgloss in a mirror, he was hooked. he only had to see you do it once and the following day, he brought several lipglosses for you.

it was like a side quest for him. every time he gifted you anything, a lip gloss would be on the side. or when you were literally out for groceries, you'd find him in the cosmetics aisle and he'd turn to with a lipgloss on hand. grabbing your hand, he'd pull you closer to him and start to compare the lipgloss in the packaging to your lips. "hmm... i don't know... maybe the red one would be better."

as much as you loved it, you were beginning to complain once your draw began to fill up with several tubes of gloss, covering any other item you had in sight. what were you supposed to do with this much lipgloss? furthermore, they actually had a shelf life.... they expired.

when you brought this up to jay, he gave you the most careless shrug. "i'll just get new ones. besides, all you have to do is put them on. i'll just take it off."

oh?

oh.

jay would also be so fucking sulky if his favourite colour was changed or discontinued. it wouldn't be obvious at first but after finding out, he'd let out little sighs every time you applied a different colour and he'd keep on looking at the expiry date, wishing time would stop.

you did manage to find a dupe, however. and the moment jay saw it, he was over the moon. like thank god and the stars in heaven.

immediately he'd ask you to put it on. and who are you to deny your boyfriend's sweet request? so you opened it and applied the colour, conscious of jay's trailing eyes. the moment the wand went back into the tube, jay grabbed your face, examining your lips with the distance of a hairbreadth.

you felt warm in his grasp, feeling his thumb hover over your lips as if he were tracing them. a satisfied smile washed onto his face, the scrunch of his furrowed brows disappearing. he nodded. "beautiful."

your cheeks tinged with a heated flush. you couldn't help but just give him a long kiss on his lips, parting to find your colour imprinted on him. you grinned, imitating his own tone. "beautiful."

jay rolled his eyes, hand travelling to encircle your waist. your mouth dried at the sudden proximity and the intensity swirling in his brown eyes. "let me show you just how beautiful you are."

STAWPPP 😳🤭

jaeyun

babe. listen. jake will stop everything he's doing if it means getting to watch you put some lipgloss on. sure, there's lip balm. but lip balm is not as pretty as lipgloss is on you.

pretty sure he has a spidey sense for it as well. like at any given time, if he thinks you're about to put on some lipgloss, he'll run right towards you.

you'll be in your room and you got a package the other day. it was some new lipglosses that you wanted to try. jake is in the living room, headphones on full blast, but yet somehow he can hear you open the package he brought from your mailbox.

you've just picked a lipgloss to try on and jake is already dragging the ottoman in the corner of your room to your mirror. "jake? i– where did you come from?"

"i heard you open your package, so," jake shrugged.

you blinked blankly. your hand stretched out to lift the headphones hung around his neck with a finger. "you heard me? with these on? jake, they're noise cancelling."

"i should sue for false advertisement," jake nodded to himself before redirecting his attention to you. his wide eyes flickering back and forth between you and the lip gloss in your hands.

you sighed, shaking your head. you knew exactly what he wanted. he wasn't slick with it. you had caught him several times, purposely placing your lip glosses randomly everywhere. on your bed, on the kitchen counter, next to your phone, next to the sink... the list was endless.

jake intently watched you open the lipgloss, head leaning in naturally. the push of your hand towards him surprised him but he realised quickly that you were fulfilling the question lingering inside his head: the smell of the lipgloss. taking a quick whiff, he noted the feigned berry scent, reminiscent of the warm plum colour it had.

you pushed down your smile at the cute little nod jake did once he was satisfied. taking the wand back, you leaned into your mirror, eyes narrowing and lips pursing.

out of your peripheral, you could see jake do the same, except his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip, far too focused on what you were doing.

his eyes trailed the tip of the applicator. the warm plum colour smeared softly against your pillowy lips, mostly sheer. it had small speckles of glitter from what jake could tell. as you rubbed your lips together, finally bringing in the entire coat, jake could tell he loved this gloss.

it looked amazing on you. or well, you made it look good.

you turned to him, wiggling your eyebrows. "what do you think?" you queried, jutting out your lips for him to see.

jake was at a lost for words. all he could do is grab your face with his hands and place his lips onto yours. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss before closing once you began to melt away at the pure fervour jake had within him. he was consuming you, attempting to get closer to you if he could and seizing any air around you.

you pulled yourself away, taking a big inhale of air. shit...

your eyes fell to the plum colour smudged across jake's lips. you were sure yours looked the same. you could've sworn your heart skipped a beat when a loose grin played on his face. "i love it."

sunghoon

to be honest, sunghoon had never thought about this. like ever. he had never seen it, never mind with someone he really liked, so it didn't really register for him. jake, the most clingy person he knows, talked about it all the time. he was already down bad but whatever this thing was with lipgloss, it had jake go feral. and sunghoon just didn't get it.

like bro, it's just lipgloss? like chill.

sunghoon understood the mundane things. like watching you tuck your hair behind your ears, the way you would chew down on your lip when you were concentrating on something, or the scrunch of your nose when you would squint. he would never admit it to you, or anyone for that matter, but he loved that shit.

this lipgloss thing? eh...

but then he saw it.

sunghoon never really pegged you for a lipgloss person. you were always complaining about your hair getting stuck in your lip balm, which resulted in your tucking your hair behind your ears (a win for him). so he just figured lipgloss wasn't in your kit.

but you two were getting ready for a lunch date and sunghoon saw you whip out the warm pink gloss while he put on his shoes. he forgot all about doing the laces... eyes honing on your lips through the mirror.

now that he had seen it, he couldn't stop looking. he understood it.

it was so intriguing.

the way you had to purse your lips and apply such a pretty colour. the way the light bounced off the shine, glittering occasionally. the care you took... the rubbing of your lips to smear the colour evenly... the little satisfactory nod and smile you sported when you saw yourself fully in the mirror...

fuck, he got it.

after finally finishing his shoes, sunghoon walked up to you, watching you turn around with a wide smile. you wiggled your eyebrows. "how do i look?" you asked, giving a small spin.

sunghoon smiled quietly, mind full of only your lips. he dipped his head down to your cheek, leaving a lingering kiss on the soft surface before pulling back. "pretty."

you smiled at his compliment, your own eyes looking him up and down, hand rubbing his chest gently. you stood on your toes, pressing a quick peck on his cheek as well. "you look pretty too."

your eyes widened at the shiny pink stain on his cheek. "aw shit," you cursed.

sunghoon raised a brow, looking at himself in the mirror. his body paused on the silhouette of your kiss on his skin. he could've sworn his heart was thundering in his chest while a wave of warm washed over him.

you grabbed a fresh wet wipe from your vanity, hand stretching out to wipe off the mark but sunghoon's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

sunghoon gave a small smile at the confused expression swirling in your eyes. "leave it."

your eyes go big at his words. "b-b-but it's gonna be on your skin? it's so pink and so... obvious..." you told him, voice slowly turning into a whisper as his smile got bigger.

"it's okay," sunghoon murmured, grabbing this wipe out of your hand and resting it on the vanity before intertwining his fingers with yours. "i like it like that."

soft for this type of sunghoon 🥹🤭

seonwoo

listen, seonwoo is the motherfucker that would apply it for you.

don't get him wrong. he loves watching you put lipgloss on. he admired the way you got so into it, blocking out the rest of the world for a good three minutes to make sure you had applied it well. besides, you looked so pretty.

but one day, you broke out of your trance and caught seonwoo looking invested in it. the surprise he had when you offered him the wand and a lipliner was like no other. you thought he wanted to put it on which was fine with you. especially considering you were secretly the one who loved seonwoo's lips the most. so soft... so pillowy and plump, perfect for any lip product.

but much to your surprise, seonwoo shook his head no and asked is he could put it on you. the offer was so sweet, you immediately wiped off any product on your lip, not caring that it was technically a waste, and sat ready for him to apply it.

and now... it was like a daily ritual.

every morning, as the both of you got ready, you would both decide on a combo you would wear for the day. and you would sit in front of the window, on the floor, sun beaming down on you.

it normally took three minutes at most to line your lips and then fill it with lipgloss. but with seonwoo, it took a lot longer. the both of you got distracted to easily.

he'd be lining your lips, unaware of all the sweet whispers falling from his mouth. "you're so pretty, baby," "i didn't know it was possible for lips to be this cute." and adding the final touches of your gloss, he'd say, "i just want to kiss you so bad... every day."

and this was your breaking point.

screw the lipgloss.

you would always end the entire moment by grabbing his face to kiss him. you could feel the sticky gloss move onto him, his soft pillowy lips absorbing all the colour and sparkles.

seonwoo would also get into it, pushing himself closer into your touch, making the kiss deeper as his craving for you expanded. his hands, free of the liner and gloss, would crawl up your neck, getting tangled in your hair. his eye would be completely shut, letting himself melt into you entirely.

the whole gloss thing always left seonwoo on fire. like he just couldn't wait to kiss you again and again.

you would leave the kiss by placing kisses across his jaw and kisses. practically adorning his skin in your marks while your hands fisted the end of his shirt.

you'd both spent the next ten minutes trying to wipe off the marks with wet wipes, talking and laughing about how maybe the lipgloss should be left to you, only for seonwoo to get sulky about it, refusing the proposition entirely. he was going to put your lipgloss on. even if it only resulted in it coming off.

you didn't mind though. seonwoo knew that deep down you'd wake up the next day and do it all over again just to kiss him again. because that's exactly what he wants.

jungwon

jungwon is another one who doesn't really get it. he's just so caring and romantic that he revels in the simplicity of romance.

he likes that you're the first text he sees everyday, even when you're right next to him. or when you walk around in his clothes... hoodies, matching bracelets, and keychains. when he checked on you to make sure you had eaten and to see how you're day had been going. his favourite, however, was your random urge to poke his dimples. it always made him break out into a shy smile which you teased him for.

these simple things... they kept him going.

but then came the lipgloss his sister had gifted you for your birthday. you were a big fan of tinted lip balms, he knew that. he always pretended to gape at your drawer full of them because he knew you'd end up hitting him in the arm, annoyed by his teasing.

this lipgloss, however, was truly one of a kind. it was packed with some of the prettiest glitter jungwon had ever seen. to be honest, jungwon should've thanked his sister when he saw you first apply it the next day.

you were out having a picnic. everything was just right. the sun, the comforting breeze, and the warmth of your head resting on jungwon's lap, while music softly played from your phone.

as you were resting on jungwon's lap, eyes closed and absorbing the peaceful atmosphere, you suddenly remembered you had brought along his sister's present. jungwon, who was spending most of this tranquility staring at you and combing his hand through your hair, had a mini heart attack when you suddenly opened your eyes and were lunging towards your bag.

his sharps brows furrowed at your rummaging. "what are you looking for, baby?"

your tongue hung out of the corner of your mouth. "uh," you failed to respond, trying to find the tube that you apparently had misplaced so easily in your bag. "ah! got it!" you cheered, feeling the smooth tube enter your hand.

jungwon watched as you grabbed your phone as well and went back to laying on his lap. you slid your phone to the camera, turning it so it faced you. placing the butt of the lipgloss tube in your mouth, you expertly twisted out the applicator and moved the tube between your fingers to apply the product.

the whole scene was some sort of alluring contraption to jungwon. the dexterity of your fingers surprised him but nothing surprised him more than his sudden fixation on your lips. the way you applied the warmish red in thin sheer coats across your soft lips, letting the sun capture every single speckle of glitter in it.

you were radiating.

you checked yourself in your phone before putting it down. you looked up at jungwon's staring eyes and pursed your lips. "thoughts?"

jungwon remained silent for a second, internally contemplating. but, nevertheless, a sigh slipped out of his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours. the peck was momentary before he pulled back. "i think it's pretty."

a flush of heat travelled down your cheeks. "jungwon," you whined, jutting out your lip, only increasing his urge to kiss you again. "you took like half of it off."

jungwon grinned, dimples popping out, making you instinctively poke them with your finger. his lipgloss coated lips pressed a brief kiss on the side of your finger. "i also think i'm going to have to buy you some more lipglosses."

riki

an interesting sort of impatience.

from the moment you started wearing lipglosses or he watched you put on your lip balm, riki was fixated on the act. he always pretended like he didn't care because for him it was slightly embarrassing. to be affected by something so simple, that is.

he never tries to enforce you like some people might by putting lipglosses everywhere or buying you them specifically. riki liked when it happened naturally and every so often.

on the occasion, maybe you were getting ready or you were testing out a new colour, he'd watch you out of the corner of his eye. patiently waiting for you to apply. why? it was simple because he wanted to come off.

he couldn't really grasp it. there was just this sort of annoyance that you had when riki smudged the gloss so it escaped the confines of your lips... and riki adored your reaction to it.

you'd always get slightly heated. whining and purposely trying to move away from him so you could apply it in peace. only for him to follow you out, resulting in you being chased around the house.

that was what he was impatient for. that very specific intimacy between you two. as mentioned, he enjoyed the natural occurrence of it. he could never make it happen. it just happened. and when it did, it would set the mood for the rest of the day.

like today.

you were already cautious the moment you saw riki walk into the bathroom in your peripheral. riki would raise his arms in defence. "i'm just looking for my cologne," he'd say, "i put it somewhere here because jake was hounding me for some.

you narrowed your eyes, silently turning back to the mirror and returning to your application. riki was next to you, pretending to rummage through the bathroom drawers. you can't miss the way he slowly rises up from drawers, his eyes fixated on your lips through the mirror.

by the last swipe of your lipgloss, you can already feel and see riki leaning in to mess it up. "nope!" you said, immediately retracting yourself from the bathroom counter, rushing to walk out of the room.

riki was hot on your tail. "oh come on... i'm not doing anything. i just want to spend time with you. is that so bad?" he asked, amusement underlying his voice.

you turned to him, now walking backwards out into the living room. "yes. it is bad when you have that look in your eyes."

riki stepped towards you, eyebrows pulled together in a feigned confusion. "what look?"

"that one. like you're going to eat me or something," you pointed accusingly.

riki rested his hands on his hips, standing in front of you with a slight tilt to his head. he clicked his tongue. he spoke with a nonchalant tone. "because i am."

the moment you see him take a step forward, you're off. you fell into a maze, running around your furniture which riki just inches behind you. you made it to your bedroom, in fits of laughter by this point and about to shut the door on his face.

but you're just a bit too slow.

riki's hand stretched out, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you back into him. you squirmed in his grip while he shifted the both of you to the bed with a soft thud.

"riki," you complained despite the wide smile etching on your face. your head fell to his chest, hair falling around your ears to cover your flushed skin.

a hum fell from his lips as riki's eyes flickered over your face, hand reaching out to push your hair behind your ears after he tilted your face back up. the action seized all the air around you. at least that's what you thought by the feel of your mouth drying.

"i got you," riki quietly teased, grinning at you.

you snapped out of your trance and rolled your eyes. you hit his chest playfully, a soft laugh following after. "let me go."

riki blinked at you, head leaning in towards you. you could feel his hot breath glide past your face. one would think your heart is in your ears by the sound of how loud it is. lips a mere millimetre away from yours, he whispered, "never."

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[lowkeyren]

drunk words, sober thoughts!

in which — “taking your boss home after he gets drunk for the nth time this week” wasn’t in your job description; but as emotions run high, would you still choose to resist his advances?

pairing — aventurine x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  — wc: 2.1k, consumption of alcohol (aven is drunk), he’s so down bad for u its not even funny anymore, topaz + jade cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated! please enjoy <3

the persistent ringing of your phone jolts you awake, pulling you from the depths of sleep. groggily, you reach out, fingertips searching for the source of the disturbance amidst the darkness of the room.

with a grunt of frustration, you finally locate your phone on the bedside table. your eyes squint against the harsh glow of the screen, revealing topaz's name flashing insistently.

"hello..?" you answered, your voice thick with drowsiness. 

"hey friend, sorry to wake you." topaz said, quickly getting to the point, "aventurine's getting wasted at the tavern here. can you come get him?" 

you rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "aren’t you at the tavern too? why can't you do it instead..." you don't mean to sound rude, but anyone's mood would sour if they were woken up in the middle of their slumber, right? 

(and please just give me one night of peace, you want to add on)

but working as aventurine's secretary means there's barely ever any peace; you are constantly living a chaotic life, exhausted by his endless and, even more annoyingly, unpredictable shenanigans. maybe you shouldn’t have taken the position, but the pay and the view of his infuriatingly handsome face makes it all worthwhile.

topaz sighs. "trust me, i tried. but his stubborn ass is refusing to leave, i can't get through to him no matter what." 

in the background, you hear your boss call out to you, “mmmh [name]... c'meeere” his words slurred from the effects of alcohol. it's clear he's drunk; way too drunk actually. is he that far gone? you aren’t even there. 

it wasn't the first time he’s gotten this drunk, in fact he’s been drinking every other day lately —much to your concern. "alright, i'll be there soon." you reply, fully aware that his drunken antics would inevitably lead to a splitting headache.

"thanks. he's in pretty bad shape." topaz adds just as another slurred whine of your name cuts through the background. “...ugh, and please come quick” she hangs up before you can respond. you sigh again, throwing off the covers, and quickly dressing yourself before making your way to the tavern.

it looks like your night’s just getting started, because this is just another reminder of how taxing it is to clean up after your endearingly troublesome boss. 

as you step through the entrance of the tavern, your eyes scan the crowded space until they land on aventurine. he’s slumped over the counter, his head resting on his folded arms, and an array of empty glasses scattered around him. you notice topaz isn't beside him, and just as you reach for your phone, a notification pops up from her. 

"jade called, i have to go." fantastic, now you're stuck playing babysitter to your incredibly drunk boss all on your own. isn’t this just adding insult to injury..? you put your phone down, and make your way over to the counter, mentally bracing yourself for what’s to come. 

aventurine, whose cheeks are flushing from too many glasses of ale, immediately perks up when he catches sight of you. his posture shifts slightly, a clumsy attempt to straighten up. despite his dishevelled appearance and obvious inebriation, a sloppy grin spreads across his face; his usually sharp eyes now hazy, but his gaze remains unwavering.

“sir, it's time to go home. you’ve had enough for tonight.” you say firmly, your expression deadpan, the exhaustion in your system weighing heavily on you. “sweetheart... *hic* i missed youuuu," he slurs, words drawn out and muddled, the alcohol coating his tongue with each syllable. 

aventurine’s bleary eyes struggling to focus as they fix themselves on you, it’s evident he has it much worse tonight.  “mmh sweetheart, have i ever told you just how gorgeous you are?" his words linger in the air; though your expression remains indifferent, you can feel a subtle heat rising up your neck.

you hate how he has this effect on you, it shouldn't stir such feelings, especially given his role as your boss. though no matter the amount of times he effortlessly (re: shamelessly) slips endearments into your conversations, you can still sense the warmth bubbling up inside you —much to your dismay.

“yes sir, for the fourth time this week. and don’t try to distract me—” before you can finish, aventurine stumbles forward and envelops you in a tight embrace, the overpowering smell of alcohol engulfing your senses. his lips inches away from your ear, the proximity borders on suffocating in its allure; he rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck, stirring a rush of conflicting emotions within you.

you hadn’t had anything to drink tonight, so why are you feeling hazy, your head swirling with jumbled-up thoughts, and your body unexpectedly warming up? you fight to maintain your composure as aventurine holds you close, his grip unyielding.

“ahem… sir please release me immediately. ” you manage to say, your voice trembling slightly, cringing at your own words as it didn’t come out as stern as you had hoped.

aventurine seems to hesitate for a moment, his grip loosening ever so slightly, but he doesn't let go completely. “no… no sir, i’m not your sir” he mumbles, his words muffled against your shoulder.

two weeks ago, you would've redirected his attention firmly, steering clear of any personal entanglements that could complicate your working relationship. two weeks ago, you would’ve dismissed any hint of intimacy, and suppressed the flicker of attraction beneath layers of practicality and duty. 

now, however, your resolve falters as you stand enveloped in his embrace. the logical arguments that once guided your actions seem distant and irrelevant compared to the raw, magnetic pull of his presence.

in the face of his vulnerability, your defenses too crumble, leaving you grappling with conflicting impulses and unspoken desires —so you decide to indulge just this once.

“aventurine. there, happy?” you can feel his heart racing against yours, a syncopated rhythm that mirrors the tangle of emotions swirling within you. the line between professionalism and lovers has always been blurred between you. but now as his arms encircle you and his warmth seeps into your skin, it seems near impossible to define.

perhaps, all along, it was his intention for that line to fade away, to be erased completely.

he doesn’t respond with words, but instead holds you tighter, as if seeking solace in your presence. his name escapes your lips in a soft murmur, “kakavasha…?” the sound of your voice rings in his ear, lingering in the air like a whispered prayer.

he seems to delight in the way you utter his name, evident by how he savours each syllable like a rare delicacy.  you take his silence as your cue to continue, clearing your throat, “unfortunately the chauffeur is unable to make it at this hour, so i will—”

he cuts you off by releasing you from his grasp, yet keeps you ensconced in his arms, ensuring you face him directly. in the dim light, you finally get to see his flawless features up close for the first time tonight.

“i love you.” his words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

he stares into your eyes, a whirlwind of emotions surge within you. caught off guard, you let out a chuckle, unsure if his words are genuine or if he’s merely attempting to charm his way out of a situation again. 

“i bet you tell everyone that.” you shoot him an unimpressed look.

he pauses for a moment, his hands finding a comfortable place on your back before pulling you closer to him.  “i do.” he nods in confirmation, his gaze steady on yours. 

“i tell everyone that i love you.”

your heart skips a beat, actually no, you think you stopped breathing the moment those words left his mouth. does he know how much he tugs at your heartstrings? though you can’t help but wonder if he'll regret everything when he sobers up tomorrow. 

“aventurine, you’re drunk.” you say softly as you divert your gaze. "yes, and you’re everything i’ve ever wanted." he moves his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, eagerly waiting for the moment the room stops spinning so he can focus on your face again.

the world around you collapses the instant your eyes meet him again, it feels like he's baring his soul to you, grounding you with his touch, his presence. you gently place your hand over his that rests on your cheek, your voice barely above a whisper. "let's get you home first, and we can talk about this when you're sober."

“alright sweetheart, whatever you say...” he drawls out with a tipsy cadence, punctuated by his tightening hold on your back. you huff out in feign annoyance before grabbing his hand and dragging him out the tavern.

you navigate through the night with a very drunk aventurine leaning heavily against your side, his arm draped around your shoulder for support. “ugh you’re impossible when you’re drunk…” you chide with a playful roll of your eyes, half-supporting, and half-dragging him along. “please be reminded to give me a raise when this is over.”

aventurine’s occasional laughter punctuates through the quiet night, drawing the attention of a few late-night pedestrians who smile knowingly at the scene. and you swear you caught a glimpse of silver-white hair as you pass by an alley, maybe the lack of sleep is really taking a toll on you.

“you’re lucky you have a pretty face to make up for all this mess you’re dragging me through.” you remark subconsciously, only to be interrupted by him abruptly stopping in his tracks. he looks at you with a sheepish grin, cheeks still flushed.

“…you think i'm pretty?” 

you jab at him, maybe you should give him a few more while you have the chance. after all, he probably won't remember any of this tomorrow, right?

okay maybe aventurine wasn’t lying when he said he tells everyone that he loves you. (and apparently “everyone” includes his coworkers too)

the constant dinging of your phone makes you seriously consider launching it out the nearest window. you open the group chat and stare incredulously at the avalanche of texts flooding your screen.

[topaz sent an attachment]

seems like you weren’t hallucinating last night, topaz really was there —and she managed to snap a picture of you and aventurine.

“topaz?? i thought you had an emergency with jade”

“nah lol, jade was in on it”

“hope you had a great night dear, and make sure to let us know what happened~”

“you guys are menaces i swear!!!!”

before you can gather your thoughts, a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you gently against his solid chest. you tense up, part of you wanting to melt into his hold; and despite your better judgement, you instinctively lean into him.

"so, what's the deal with you getting plastered every night?" you tease, momentarily forgetting about the texts as you turn your focus to aventurine.

“what else other than drowning out my sorrows over you, sweetheart.” he quips, sneaking a quick peck on your cheek, which you dodge just in time. 

“seriously? all those drinks were because you thought i wasn't into you?"

“hmm, yeah pretty much so.” he admits, truly his shamelessness knows no bounds.

“then i guess it’s about time you learn how to handle your losses.” you jest, nudging him as he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “there’s no need. i'll still tell you that i love you tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that until you finally let yourself believe it." 

aventurine will wait for the day you accept him, more than just your boss; he will wait for the day you whisper those three words, not just into his ear, but into the very depths of his heart. he will be there, patiently, until the day your soul finally speaks the truth that his heart has always known.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 

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©lowkeyren 2024. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

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[gtgbabie0]

-Cregan Stark x reader

{Cregan finds you curled up, sleeping in your shared bedchambers}

Enjoy my lovelies💕

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Lord Stark wasn’t unfamiliar with busy days, the type that consumed all of his attention and energy to only leave him exhausted. The endless amount of problems that seemed to grow with each passing hour, it was a tiring feat that he handled with ease.

His duty to his House and the North was admirable, you often find yourself marvelling at how much care he has for every single minute detail that most seemed to not notice. However, his duty to you was tenfold this… perhaps that is why Cregan decided to end his day earlier than usual.

Making the eager escape back to your shared bedchambers, just the thought of you turns him into a ball of giddiness, hidden behind the rugged nature that exudes him.

He forces himself to slow his movements down as he spots you, curled up in the middle of the bed, against the furs in your cotton nightgown. He silently curses the creaky, heavy, door of your bedchambers, the groan it lets out as he closes it shut causes you to gently stir from your sleep.

“Sorry, my dear.” He whispers brows pinched together as he takes off the furs that drape over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You shake your head in weak protest to his words, rubbing your eyes with a smile at the feeling of him sitting down on the edge of the bed. He admires you for a moment, how the warm fireplace casts an orangey light over your body, painting you like some sort of goddess.

“I wasn’t sleeping… just resting my eyes.” You whisper through a sleep-laden tone, your gaze meeting his own.

With a chuckle he cups the side of your face, his calloused palm resting against your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the space underneath your eyes.

“Really? Then why are you drooling all over the pillows love?” He teases, lips curled upwards into a smirk.

“I did not!” You gasp and he watches you quickly push yourself to sit up and check the pillows, rolling your eyes with a small huff.

“Maybe just a little.” He whispers, thumbing at the corner of your mouth, wiping away the remnants of a really good nap.

You shoot a playful glare up at him, moulding back into your comfortable position. A sigh escapes your lips as his fingers brush through your hair, his fingertips grazing against your scalp soothingly.

His eyes soften at the way you lean into his touch, how your body seems to completely relax once more. “How long have you been ‘resting your eyes’ for?” He asks, amusement threading through his gentle tone.

“A while… I lost track of time.” You reply with an almost sheepish smile, enjoying the way he begins to play with your hair which has become a little tussled from sleep. “I did try to wait up for you…”

“Hmm, that didn't last too long, did it?” He asks, looking down at you with adoration, his chest blooming with warmth as you nuzzle yourself against the roughness of his hand.

“No… but I did try.” You promise, making space for him as he shuffles closer to you, drawing your body to rest against him.

Cregan props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with a tenderness in his eyes that completely melts you. He watches as you curl up against him whilst he brings the furs over your shoulders to protect you from the harsh winds that continue to howl through the castle.

"I appreciate the effort, my love, but you needn't tire yourself out waiting for me." He responds in a low and soothing tone, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

"You know I would never want you to lose sleep on my account." Cregan continues, letting his lips linger against your forehead. His hand comes to rest against your hip, caressing the curve and dip of your waist.

He has always been so sweet to you, putting you before anything else and never once letting you doubt your place in his heart. It was a shock, especially after the rumours you had heard about him when in reality he was a huge softie... at least to you he is.

A moment of silence passes and he thinks you might’ve fallen back asleep, that is until you’re pulling him back down to steal a sweet kiss, which he is quick to deepen. He hums in contentment against your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair.

“I’ve missed you today.” You whisper against his lips, the kiss tapering off into small loving pecks.

He grins, caressing your cheek as he pulls back slightly to look down at you. “Well… I’m right here now and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.” He replies, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip as he holds your face before capturing your lips once more.

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I need him!